


close a little distance

by ofhobbitsandwomen (litvirg)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Letters, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Pen Pals AU, Pining, Pre-Canon, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litvirg/pseuds/ofhobbitsandwomen
Summary: Her badge tumbled down, one credential after another. The top one, right between her thumb and forefinger, gleamed in the faltering light of the alley.Tina Goldstein.Ah, he thought. Not quite the meeting he pictured.Years ago, Newt's History of Magic professor assigned them all pen pals from different wizarding schools. Not having corresponded in years, Newt is surprised to run in to his old letter writing friend, Tina, on his first trip to New York.





	1. Chapter 1

  1. **New York.**



The witch shoved him, stumbling into a dark pocket of an alley. He watched as her head, small, short brown hair covered by a blue hat, whipped back and forth, checking to make sure they weren’t followed.

“Who are you?” She rounded on him.

Newt stared for a moment, catching up to her. He shook his head slightly when he realized she’d spoken. “I’m sorry?”

“Who are you?” she repeated.

He straightened a bit, offered her a smile. “Newt Scamander,” he said. He almost held his hand out for a shake like Theseus always did when he met someone new. “And you are?”

She hesitated, as if weighing some invisible set of scales to see the benefits of getting on equal footing with him. He thought he must have imagined the flash of recognition flitting across her face. He’d never been to New York before, though, if he admitted it to himself, it was always on the to do list. But he’d certainly never _met_ anyone from New York before.

She ducked her head for the briefest of moments, before coming back to him, ignoring the question.

“What’s that thing in your case?”

There was no friendliness in her voice, no curiosity.

She didn’t smile when he explained it was just his niffler, that it was an easy accident, that the niffler was always running after something shiny. There was an edge of panic in her eyes, like she was working through something she didn’t quite have control of and Newt felt as though he was missing half of the conversation right up to when she said--

“I’m taking you in.”

He shook his head, stepping back a fraction. “Taking me where?”

Her badge tumbled down, one credential after another. The top one, right between her thumb and forefinger, gleamed in the faltering light of the alley.

 _Tina Goldstein_.

Ah, he thought. Not quite the meeting he pictured.

“So,” he said, trying to remain casual. “You work for MACUSA? What are you, some kind of investigator?”

She’d never talked about life after Ilvermorny. Not in real concrete plans, anyway. He’d wondered, on his travels when he let himself, what she finally got up to. Thought about writing her now and again. But it had been to many years, he’d decided. And from the look she was giving him now, he was right.

She had no interest in catching up, talking about career decisions over a cup of tea. She deflected again, asking about the muggle--the no-maj she had called him--and avoiding his eye as much as she could.

She grabbed his arm. It was almost casual, until she pulled him along with her, hard, making sure he didn’t walk away.

“That’s a section 3A, Mr. Scamander.” His name sounded oddly formal on her tongue. “I’m taking you in.”

***

  1. **Hogwarts**.



Leta sat across from him, biting into a bit of toast as she skimmed through their class schedules. She grabbed his as soon as she’d sat down, checking to see what classes they’d have together this term. She stuck out at the Hufflepuff table, in her silver and green Slytherin clothes, but then again, the two of them always sort of stuck out.

Leta seemed to enjoy it, the way they were set apart from the others. There was a bubble around them wherever they went. Even there, at the Great Hall, sitting at the house tables, there were no students around them for several feet down the benches.

He heard Leta sigh. “We don’t have History of Magic together this year,” she said grumpily. “Who’s going to stop me from falling asleep now?”

Newt smiled gently at her, taking his own schedule back. “Hopefully you’ll wake yourself up as your head hits the desk when you doze.”

Leta stretched her legs out on the bench, taking advantage of the room beside her. Newt couldn’t help but stare. He admired the way she always managed to do that--to take up the space that was allowed to her. Even when he knew she felt small, she made herself seem bigger. It was easier to belong somewhere, she told him once, if you didn’t give any room for people to say that you didn’t.

Newt self consciously uncrossed his own ankles where they were tucked under his bench.

All summer he couldn’t wait to get back to Hogwarts. Back to the Hufflepuff common room and the classes and the work that kept him busy, the library that kept him sane. His house was so big, too large, he thought, with too little to do. The only place he felt like he could blend it at home was with his mother and her hippogriffs.

But now, being back in the Great Hall, with Leta happily swiping bacon from his plate, staring down the other tables like she was looking for something important, he wondered when he was going to find somewhere that he just fit. No adjustments, no qualifications. A place he could just slip into and feel right.

“We should do it this year,” Leta said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Newt?”

“Sorry,” he said. He closed his book. “What was it you wanted to do?”

“The Forbidden Forest,” she said, leaning across the table to whisper.

Newt rolled his eyes. Since just after their sorting last year when they were told _not_ to go anywhere near the forest, it’s all Leta had wanted to do. He’d talked her out of it before, but she got impatient each time.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, I know you want to go too,” she said. “Think of all the different types of creatures in there.”

Newt shook his head.

“It’s not worth it,” he said. “We don’t know enough about it and I’m not getting kicked out of Hogwarts just to go bother a centaur.”

Leta pursed her lips, glancing away from him. He watched as her fingers tapped rapidly on the tabletop, like she was pushing all her energy out through them instead of yelling at him.

“You’re too Hufflepuff for your own good sometimes, Newt,” she said softly, a moment later. She always said that. Maybe she was right. He did want to see what was in the forest. He was sure there was something great in there, something exciting. But there was plenty of time for exciting later, plenty of ways for excitement within the castle bounds.

If he was kicked out of Hogwarts…

Well he’d have to go home. And he didn’t think he could live with his father if he was kicked out for looking for creatures in the Forbidden Forest.

“We can look for merpeople in the Black Lake,” he offered.

“We _always_ look for merpeople in the Black Lake,” she groaned. “I want to do something different. Something _fun_.”

Newt thought looking for merpeople in the Black Lake _was_ fun. Anything with Leta was fun. Maybe he _was_ too Hufflepuff for his own good.

“Look,” he said, pulling his book back in front of him. He flipped to a chapter in the middle of the book about Sudanese dragons. “My brother found this book in our library at home over the summer. Was going to throw it away before I took it.” He nudged it toward her a bit.

Leta leaned forward, her hand going out to rest on the page he’d turned to. She smiled, rolling her eyes, and he knew she was letting him distract her. She sighed like it was a burden to flip through it but he could see her smile growing wider as she read, and he settled back into his seat, pulling an apple from a bowl on the table and crunching into it, relieved.

***

  1. **New York**.



Tina looked around the small room she shared with Queenie. She wasn’t sad to leave it behind, neither of them were really.

But it was strange. They hadn’t known anywhere else. Their mom had talked of Ilvermorny when they were little, both too small to really remember what it is she had said, but flashes of warm fires and happy mornings with huge breakfast flittered through her mind, as though she could see the days her mom had spoken of without really knowing what they were.

They’d have to share a room with new people now, she realized. She didn’t know what any other people were like, all she knew was Queenie.

“It’ll be okay, Teen,” she said. Tina could feel her sifting into her head, reading what was there. She shrugged, picking up her bag.

“Stay outta my head, Queenie.”

Queenie just shrugged and smiled, unbothered. She’d pinned her hair back with sparkling pins, a small purple ribbon on one of them to match her dress. Tina had told her they were just going to have to change into their uniforms when they got there anyway, but Queenie didn’t seem to mind.

“I like dressing up,” she said, smoothing down the skirt of her purple dress. “It makes me feel better.”

Tina had smiled at that. She had opted for something simple and comfortable to wear on the journey, a whole lot of grey covering her, while her uniform sat tucked at the top of her suitcase, ready for her to pull out when she needed it.

“Alright,” she said, one last look to their old bedroom. There was a pot of flowers on the table at the end of Queenie’s bed. They should have been dead, long withered and gone, but every morning Queenie woke up and scooted down to the end of her mattress to check on them, there they were. Live and vibrant and blooming. “We should get going.”

“You forgetting anything, Teen?” Queenie asked her, when she lingered in the doorway for another moment. She looked over at her sister, small and pale and flushed with excitement. She smiled at Tina, watching her carefully and Tina knew she was doing her best to stay out of her head, though she couldn’t always help it.

“Nope,” she said stepping out. She grabbed her sister’s hand and turned away from the old room. “Let’s go.”

***

  1. **New York**.



“What are you doing in New York anyway?”

That was the question burning in the back of her head. _Why are you here? Why aren’t you tucked away in England like you’re supposed to be, never bothering me again?_

She wasn’t sure anymore how many years it had been since she’d heard from him. For a while she kept writing, thinking maybe her letters were getting lost, or taken from him. That maybe he just didn’t know she was trying to reach him. She’d read over his old letters time and again, wondering maybe if she missed something. Maybe he moved, and she forgot to send the letter to the right place.

For almost a year she’d read and reread and write. Until one day, she just stopped.

She thought about the stack of letters, tied together neatly and tightly with a spare bit of twine, stuffed away in her bottom drawer. She should have chucked them in the fire in her common room at Ilvermorny, she thought. She almost did too, until Queenie snatched them away from her.

“You think you wanna get rid of these,” she said, reasonably. “But you don’t, not really Teen.”

Tina was gonna argue with her, she reached for them to take them back and get rid of them, but Queenie stood up, clutching them to her chest.

“Let me hang on to them,” she said, backing away. “If you wanna get rid of them still when we leave here, I’ll give ‘em back, I promise.”

So there they sat, tucked away in her dresser, waiting for the day she finally got rid of them.

She was going to chuck them as soon as she got home.

“I came to buy a birthday present,” Newt said simply.

Her mind flashed to an old letter, the words still pressing into her head. _Her name’s Leta. She’s the only friend I’ve really got here at Hogwarts_. Tina wondered if it was a present for her.

“Couldn’t you have done that in London?”

She wished her voice didn’t sound so bitter. She shouldn’t sound so upset, shouldn’t _be_ so upset. She shouldn’t be anything at all about him. Too much time had passed.

His eyes widen as they walk through the ministry and she lets herself wonder for a moment if that’s how he was when he got her letters. Scouring them for something new, gobbling up what he didn’t know as fast as he could. Then she pushed him into the elevator and shoved her thoughts aside.

“Major Investigations Department,” she told Red.

He glanced up at her, confused. “I thought you was--”

Newt’s head shifted, slightly, toward her. “Major Investigations Department,” she hissed, imploring Red to keep his mouth shut and take her there without question. “I’ve got a section 3A.”

She ignored Newt’s gaze, burning questioningly into the side of her head, and let out a small breath of relief when Red didn’t say anything further, taking them up to where she needed to go. She’d have to get him a nice present on his birthday.

Newt didn’t look away though. It was like an itch at the side of her head. She wanted to scratch it, tell it to go away, leave her alone. She didn’t owe him an explanation. She was just doing her job. Well, what would soon be her job again, anyway. And then she and Newt could part ways, for good.

***

  1. **Hogwarts**.



The breeze was cool on Newt’s skin. He leaned back against the tree behind him, grabbing his books as he scooted back. The parchment kept fluttering with the wind making it hard for him to actually get any studying done. Leta stood just a few feet off, wading into the water of the Black Lake, tossing pebbles across the surface. Probably hoping to spot one of the merpeople if she got in deep enough.

“I don’t want to write any stupid letters,” she said, a large rock falling through the water with a _plop_. “Who cares what’s going on with wizards in other schools.”

Newt shrugged, his eyes still on his homework. They’d started talking about the founding of wizarding schools around the world in their History of Magic classes. Their professor had assigned them schools earlier in the week, each one of them was supposed to start writing letters to another student in their given school.

Newt had been given Ilvermorny, Leta got Durmstrang.

Newt didn’t mind the assignment. A small part of him even looked forward to it. Leta had groaned the moment they got the assignment, slumping down next to Newt in the Great Hall for dinner. She had enough trouble with witches at Hogwarts, she told him. She didn’t need to feel like an outcast from another whole school.

He bit his lip, nodding when she told him that. He kept his head ducked and reached his hand out sympathetic toward her and didn’t tell her that secretly, deep down in his belly, that was what he was excited about.

He was in his third year at Hogwarts. Leta was his only friend. His brother was in Gryffindor too popular, too different from his odd brother to spend any real time with him. His housemates were kind to him, but quiet when he walked in a rom, unsure how to act with him. Leta was the only one who liked him, who understood him, who wanted, truly wanted, to be around him. Most of the time he felt like she was all he really needed.

But still there were times, tucked away in lonely corners during his day, when he still felt a gap that needed to be filled. When her words bit into him too harshly, when sometimes she gave him that look like he was too strange for even her to understand, or when she was frustrated because he wasn’t understanding her.

It might be nice, he thought. To have someone else. Even just on paper.

“Most problems in history are caused by a refusal to see past what’s around you,” he mumbled to her, still flipping through his books.

Leta looked back at him, pebble dropping softly into the water a few feet in front of her as she lobbed it away. He heard her sigh and shake her head. He glanced up to say something else, but she had already turned back around, skipping stones across the water again. He shifted against the tree and let the conversation drop. He didn’t want to argue with her about it anyway.

***

When it actually came time for him to write his first letter he realized, with a stone dropping into the pit of his stomach, that he didn’t actually have much to say. Not to a stranger. He stared at the parchment for a long while. He’d written the name down at the top. Porpentina Goldstein, he was supposed to be writing to.

 _Dear Porpentina,_  it said in his sloppy scrawl. Then nothing.

He glanced up and saw Theseus a few tables down in the library, his friends gone while he sat slumped over his books, studying. Newt gathered his books in his arms and made his way over to his brother.

He cleared his throat as he approached, pointing at the seat. “Do you mind?”

“‘Course not,” Theseus said. He shoved his work to one half of the table, leaving room for Newt to drop his things down. His bag gave a dull thud as it hit the chair next to him, and he spread his work out in front of him, tucking the letter away for a moment. He didn’t say anything more, though he felt Theseus’s eyes on him, watching him curiously. They didn’t study together. They didn’t do much of anything together, really. Sometimes Newt sat with him on the train, but that was as much time as they spent together when they weren’t back home.

Theseus’s head ducked back down to the work in front of him.

“Surprised you’re not studying with Leta,” he said. He wasn’t looking at Newt, but there was a lilt to his voice, like he was trying to sound casual. Theseus never said anything against Leta, but Newt could tell he never quite took to her. Thought she was strange, even compared to Newt. It made Newt’s skin prickle hotly.

“She’s got a potions assignment to work on with a partner,” he said. He met his brother’s eye and Theseus held up his hands in some sort of mock surrender.

“Just asking, little brother,” he said.

They sat for a bit longer in silence, Newt wondering if maybe he should have just kept to himself. The tip of his letter, his _Dear Porpentina_ , poking out from between the pages of one of his books. After a while he sighed and grabbed it, putting his quill down and glancing back up at Theseus.

“I actually,” he started, his voice soft. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I was actually hoping for your help with something.”

Theseus lifted his head, arms folding over the textbook he just closed.

“We’ve begun writing letters, to other wizarding students around the world that is, in History of Magic,” he explained. Theseus had done the assignment himself when he was a third year. “It’s just--well I don’t quite know where to begin.”

“What’ve you got so far?” Theseus asked him.

Flushing, he pulled his parchment out from between the pages of his book. He laid it on the table between them, just the small _Dear Porpentina_ , staring back up at them. Theseus barked out a laugh and Newt glared at him.

“No,” Theseus said chuckling. “It’s a good start.”

“Forget it,” Newt said, grabbing the paper and packing his things up. He’d figure it out on his own.

“Wait,” Theseus said. “Come on, sit back down.”

Slowly, Newt sat back across from him, keeping his bag in his lap. He didn’t want to spend the whole afternoon being teased by Theseus.

“You’re overthinking it, Newt,” he said. “It’s just a silly assignment.”

“Right,” Newt said. “Well--”

“Try it like a diary entry,” Theseus suggested. “Like you’re writing to yourself. Write what you would want to know about yourself in this moment in time.”

“Is that what you did?”

Theseus shook his head. “Truthfully, I only spent about five minutes on my letter, handed it in and moved on. I don’t even think my partner wrote back.”

He smiled down at Newt though. Not teasingly, not like he was making fun of him, but a rare, genuine smile, one Newt hardly ever saw from his brother. “Good luck then, Newt.”

“Right,” he said, standing again. “Thanks.”

***

**Ilvermorny.**

Tina was at breakfast one Tuesday when the first letter came. She’d been told to expect one, her partner in Hogwarts had already been assigned her name, and told to write her, apparently. The owl swooped over her, dropping it onto her plate, landing right on the toast she’d just buttered.

 _Perfect_ , she thought, picking it up and wiping it off on her sweater.

She thought about just shoving it into her bag and dealing with it later, but as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was a little curious.

She’d groaned when they’d been told the assignment. She had enough to worry about with Queenie at school and in a different house than her, she didn’t need another person to worry about.

But, she didn’t know much of anything about the wizarding world outside of Ilvermorny. And she’d be lying if she said she never wondered what other magical schools were like. So she ripped the letter open and found a long strip of parchment covered in thin, wobbly handwriting.

 _Dear Porpentina,_  it said.

_My name is Newt. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. Not sure what I could have done as a baby for my parents to punish me with such a long name, but there it is._

_I’m a third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I’m not sure how much you already know about me--they didn’t tell us anything about you when we were given the assignment, so I’m just going off the assumption it was the same for you._

_I’m a Hufflepuff. We’ve got four houses here: Hufflepuff, Gryffindor--that’s the one my older brother is in--Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. My best friend Leta is a Slytherin. They’re meant to separate us on our values. The brave go to Gryffindor, the wise to Ravenclaw, the ambitious and cunning to Slytherin, the loyal to Hufflepuff. I’m not sure how accurate they are; Leta isn’t all that ambitious. Maybe they just need an oddball for every house, and that’s why the two of us were separated._

_Either way, it’s where we are and there’s nothing more to it than that really. Do you have separate houses at your school? We’ve got a hat that reads our thoughts and places us in the beginning, but I’ve been told that’s just a Hogwarts thing. How does your sorting work over there?_

_Hope you’re well, looking forward to hearing from you,_

_Newt Scamander_

Tina read it over once more when she’d finished it. He hadn’t really written much about himself, she wasn’t sure how to answer. Maybe he didn’t really want to have to write to another student, maybe he hated the assignment.

Quickly, she scribbled an answer on a spare bit of parchment, answering his questions, but not much more. There was a large vacant space at the end of the parchment and she thought about just tearing it off so it wasn’t so gaping when he opened the letter. She didn’t know what else to say to fill it. This was why she just hung out with Queenie, she thought. She was no good at dealing with other people, even on paper.

“Whatcha got there, Teenie?”

Tina shoved Newt’s letter and her response into her bag. She threw up the wall she’d been learning to keep in her mind so Queenie wouldn’t go prying around, peeking at her thoughts and feeling bad for her.

“Nothing,” she said, popping an orange slice into her mouth. “Just homework.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

  1. **New York**. 



Newt tried to tread carefully, wary of creaking steps and stumbling as he balanced Jacob on his side, sneaking through the hallway toward Tina’s door. He froze, holding in his breath, watching Jacob carefully when a voice sounded from below. 

“That you Tina?” the woman called. 

He heard Tina sigh before she answered. “Yes Mrs. Esposito.” Her voice was shaky in a way Newt hadn’t heard yet. He stayed frozen another moment. 

“Are you alone?” Mrs. Esposito called again. 

There was a pause. 

“Always alone, Mrs. Esposito.”

Newt turned to look back at her at that, wondering if maybe he imagined the small hint of sadness in her tone. A curious way to answer her landlady, at the least, he thought. But she met his eye and quickly turned away, shuffling them along and he moved forward, reaching her door. 

He’d imagined coming to New York to visit Tina, years ago, when things were different. She was supposed to show him the best wizard spots and the best muggle spots, and they would sit over tea and coffee and chat and reconnect. He wouldn’t be smuggling anything into the country and he wouldn’t have a sick muggle slung over his back and she wouldn’t be watching him with careful eyes to make sure he didn’t bust out of her apartment when she wasn’t looking. 

The situation he found himself in was slightly different than he’d ever imagined. 

“Teenie,” an airy voice called from a room off to the side of the door. “You brought men home.” 

Over to his right a blonde, pale witch stood, in her night shift mending a dress. Her eyes were wide and curious and she raked them over first himself and then Jacob beside him. 

He’d never taken much time to imagine what Queenie looked like. He’d spent an embarrassing number of hours wondering about Tina, her face, her eye, her smile, but never much on Queenie. Tina had written about her constantly, so much that he felt he already knew a good deal about her. It was strange to see how perfectly her face and her easy, friendly demeanor fit the girl Tina had described to him. 

“Gentlemen,” Tina’s low voice came, bringing him back to the center of the room. “This is my sister. You want to put something on Queenie?” 

He heard Queenie agree quickly, magicking her blue dress to float off the mannequin on to her figure, Jacob watching enraptured. 

Newt turned to look around at the cluttered apartment, books piled on tables, trinkets and tea cups scattered around. He smiled softly to himself as Tina hurried over to the drying rack in front of the fire, grabbing delicates off of it quickly, leaving just a few socks on. Tina caught his expression and rolled her eyes. 

“So who are they?” Queenie asked, appearing in the middle of the room, fully clothed. 

“That’s Mr. Scamander,” Tina said, shortly. Queenie’s eyebrows raised, a hint of recognition flicking across her face. Newt allowed himself, for a moment, to wonder what she knew about him. What Tina had told her, how often she spoke of him. Selfishly, he was pleased to see the curiosity on her face grow. “He’s committed a serious infraction of the national statute of secrecy.” 

Queenie looked him up and down with wide eyes. “He’s a criminal?” 

Perhaps her memory of him didn’t add up with what Tina was telling her now. If she had indeed told her anything about him. 

“And that’s Mr. Kowalski, he’s a no-maj.”

This was too much for Queenie, whose face got too wide and pink with curiosity. “A no-maj? What are you up to Teen?”

Tina, not bothering to explain the day’s events, simply shrugged and said, “He’s sick,” as if nothing more need be said. Newt wondered if this was a regular occurrence, the two of them jumping aboard whatever the other was doing, no questions, no explanations. It was as if they knew more than was being said aloud. 

It was only when she started talking to Jacob that Newt remembered. From one of her first letters, long long ago--

“You’re a legilimens,” he said, the pieces falling together. Tina didn’t need to explain more about what had happened that day, she need only think it and Queenie would know. 

He could hear her responding to things Tina didn’t even say (“a hot dog, again?”) and he felt himself stiffen. He didn’t want her invading his head. 

She said she’d have trouble with him, but he wasn’t so sure. His mind was enough of a jumble at the moment without anyone else trying to sort through it. Or maybe, another part of his mind thought, he didn’t want someone so close to Tina working through his mind while she was around.  

“Well sit down, Mr. Scamander,” Tina said. Her eyes were cold as they peered over at him. She stood with her elbows resting on the top of a chair, casual and strong and her face not hiding the disappointment she felt at his hand on the door knob or the hope that he would let it go. 

***

  1. **Hogwarts.**



It had been two weeks since his letter Porpentina Goldstein and he hadn’t received anything back. He remembered his brother telling him how his partner never wrote back and he wondered, maybe, if he’d offended her somehow and she was doing the same to him. Or maybe his letter was just too boring. 

Then, when he finally put it out of his mind, a white envelope with a gold seal dropped into his lap. 

_ Newt, _ it began. 

_ You can just call me Tina, everyone does. (Except my sister who calls me Teenie, but I’d rather you stuck to Tina.) _

_ We’ve got houses here as well. I’m in Thunderbird. Queenie is in Pukwudgie. There’s also Horned Serpent and Wampus. All our houses are named after magical beasts, is that what a Hufflepuff is?  _

He snorted, laughing softly to himself at that, when Leta came up to him. 

“There’s a rumor one of our professors is a werewolf,” she said, plopping down next to him. “What’s that?”

Newt rolled his eyes. “Not likely,” he said. “Given all the regular signs of werewolfism--” Newt cut himself off as he spotted Leta still eyeing his letter. 

“Oh,” he said, folding it up to finish later. “The American student wrote back to me.”

“Mine wrote back a week ago,” Leta said, her nose wrinkling. “It was vile. He kept talking about all the dark magic he was learning at Durmstrang. I turned the letter in, told them I wouldn’t do the assignment anymore unless I got switched to a new partner. Apparently I’ve got a letter coming from Japan any day now.” 

“That’ll be fascinating,” he said. “We don’t know much about magic in Japan.”

“We don’t know much about magic  _ anywhere _ ,” Leta said. She was right--until this assignment he couldn’t name any other wizarding school, and he’d been brought up in an all wizard family. Even now his brother could barely tell him anything about Beauxbatons, which was the school he was assigned to. 

“Come on,” Leta said, bored with the conversation. “Let’s try to find the Room of Requirement again.” 

***

It wasn’t until much later that Newt got to finish Tina’s letter. She was brief, almost no personal detail at all. In fact, the note about her sister was the only personal detail he learned about her from the whole thing. 

_ Newt, _

_ You can just call me Tina, everyone does. (Except my sister who calls me Teenie, but I’d rather you stuck to Tina.) _

_ We’ve got houses here as well. I’m in Thunderbird. Queenie is in Pukwudgie. There’s also Horned Serpent and Wampus. All our houses are named after magical beasts, is that what a Hufflepuff is?  _

_ We also don’t have a hat to sort us. Does the hat talk to you? Can you hear it? Is it alive? What we do is we stand on this giant knot, with carvings of the four houses in it and we wait for one to react. The crystal in the head of the Horned Serpent lights up, or the Wampus roars, or the Pukwudgie raises its arrow into the air, or the Thunderbird beats it’s wings. Whichever carving reacts is the house you’re put in. I don’t really know how they know.  _

_ Sometimes students get chosen by more than one house. If that happens, apparently they get to chose. It didn’t happen in my sorting though, so I haven’t seen it.  _

_ Anyway, my study period is over. Talk to you soon.  _

_ Tina.  _

Newt pulled out one of his books excitedly, flipping until he found the page he wanted. 

_ The Thunderbird, it said, is native to the lands of Arizona. It can sense danger and create storms as it flies. Though it’s head is most obviously similar to that of a Hippogriff, Thunderbird’s are more closely related to the Phoenix. It has six wings in total, and its feathers shimmer with cloud like patterns as they fly _ . 

_ Fascinating _ , Newt thought. He knew he’d read about them earlier. He wondered if Tina had ever met one. Her letter was sparse of any detail, and she hadn’t made herself out much at all. But a beast as magnificent as the Thunderbird--he wondered just what sort of person could be chosen for that house. 

He looked up the rest of the houses, flipping through his books until he found descriptions for each, wondering what it meant for the character of the students picked to be in them. 

Students trickled in and out of the common room as he sat by the fire, reading his books, Tina’s letter waiting on the side to be answered. He felt strange writing back with a room full of people around him. As though any one of them may somehow be sucked into the correspondence, no matter the fact that he knew his housemates were paying him no mind. 

He settled onto the couch in front of the fireplace. There were just a few other students still milling about in the room, a brown haired first year in the corner trying to turn matches into sewing needles, and two girls in the corner, sleepily passing notes back and forth. He felt his eyes grow weary and decided he might as well work on his letter, so he could seal it off before he went to bed. 

He thought about what Theseus said, about writing like he was writing to himself. He hadn’t truly done that in the first letter. He’d introduced himself and talked a little bit about Hogwarts, but truthfully he hadn’t been any more open than Tina had in her first letter. 

He thought about what Leta said, about not knowing anything about magic anywhere, and how even though this assignment was supposed to aid in fixing that gaping knowledge, most students barely got past a few simple notes saying their name age and school. 

He thought about the space between himself, Leta, and all the other members of his house, or Slytherin house, every time they sat down together for breakfast. 

Glancing back to Tina’s letter he thought about the sorting, about the stares from Gryffindor house as he walked past Theseus, claiming his spot at the Hufflepuff table. 

She was across an ocean, in a place he’d never been in with people he’d never met. There was so much unknown about her in a way that was comforting. The questions in his own life felt frighteningly real, like he couldn’t avoid them. Why he was in Hufflepuff, what he would do later on, how long he and Leta could go on on the outskirts…

It was silly, perhaps, finding hope in a school assignment. Writing a letter like a diary, reaching out to something he couldn’t see and hoping for it to reach back. 

But, he reasoned. The worst that would happen was she didn’t write back. And his life would continue on, the same.  

He grabbed a spare bit of parchment. 

_ Dear Tina _ , he wrote. 

***

When he was finished, just as he was about to seal up the letter, he dashed up to his room to grab something. Shuffling through the books and loose papers in his trunk he found it, sticking it quickly into the envelope and sealing it up, ready to be sent out the next morning. 

***

  1. **Ilvermorny**. 



A letter dropped down softly onto her homework in front of her.

Tina looked up to see Queenie setting her books down on the table across from her. 

“That old bird got us confused again,” she said, sitting breezily down into her chair. “Poor thing.”

It wasn’t their owl, they didn’t have one, either of them, but there was one school owl that was constantly getting students confused, especially siblings. Tina didn’t know what it was that frazzled the poor bird so, but she was constantly going back and forth between the Thunderbird and Pukwudgie dormitory, exchanging mail with Queenie. 

“It’s from that English wizard, right?” Queenie asked her, glancing at the letter Tina had stuck into her bag, unopened. 

Tina nodded, going back to her school work. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

Queenie was excited when their class had been told the assignment. She couldn’t wait to get assigned a partner from a foreign wizarding school, couldn’t wait to charm another person. As far as Tina knew, her letters hadn’t gone how she’d hoped and Tina felt a pang of guilt over how reluctant she was to read her own letters when clearly Queenie would switch in a heartbeat. 

She almost did switch too, as soon as Queenie had pouted after her first letter, but something pulled her up short as she opened her mouth to offer. 

“Oh, don’t worry, Teen,” Queenie had said, reading her mind. “You go ahead and keep yours.” 

Now Tina just shrugged, her quill twisting in her hand. “I’ve got a lot of work to do Queenie,” she explained. “I can read the letter when I’m done.” 

She went back to her homework, the large clock on wall of the far side of the library ticking loudly. She heard rain patter against the panes of the window, and students at the next table shuffling their feet under their chairs. She was aware of every distraction, her teeth grinding into each other as she forced her hand up next to her head, narrowing her vision on the work in front of her. 

“All my partner keeps talking about is how simple he finds Americans,” Queenie said after a few minutes. “I think his professor is forcing him to write back. I almost wish she wouldn’t.” 

She looked longingly at Tina’s bag. Tina grabbed the letter and shoved it at Queenie. 

“Oh, you read it if you’re so interested,” she said. 

“You’re not curious?” Queenie sounded stunned, as if she couldn’t believe Tina had better things to do with her time than wonder what some British student had to say about their school houses. 

“I’ll be curious later,” she grumbled. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

Tina could feel Queenie edging her way around her mind. It almost annoyed her, the way it did everyone else. But she knew Queenie couldn’t really help it. When there was an opening, a lapse, Queenie’s mind just sort of reached out, trying to fit in before Queenie could stop it. 

Tina had learned to block it. It wasn’t a complete wall, the way she’d read about in Occlumency books, away from the prying eyes of Queenie, but it was something, like a filter of sorts. Queenie could feel the general idea of what Tina was thinking--her feelings, her nerves, her emotions--but she couldn’t make out specific thoughts unless Tina let her. 

Queenie tried to reign it in, she was working with one of their professors but it was hard. “The mind,” she told them, “is a powerful thing. It’s much easier to control someone else’s than it is your own.”

“You could write your own letter,” Tina suggested. “See if that French kid writes back.”

“Oh it’s different with you,” Queenie waved her off. “I can never figure out what to say to people. Especially people who don’t seem to like me. It’s so much easier when I can just see what they’re thinking.”

“You shouldn’t rely on that anyway,” Tina chided. “Maybe you could use this as practice.” 

“Most people think I’m a freak,” Queenie said. Her expression was soft, as always, but sad. Like a thought she usually kept at bay had burst through her mind and wrapped itself around her whole person. She sagged a bit in her chair. “I can hear it run through their heads. I don’t know how to talk to any of them.” 

Tina felt like her blood was boiling, coursing through her veins and throbbing in her ears. She slammed her book shut. 

“Who’s said that to you?” she demands. “When did this happen? Who thought it?”

“Calm down, Teenie,” Queenie shushed her, glancing around the library like she was embarassed of being overheard. “It’s no big deal, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 

A slow breath worked it’s way out of Tina’s lungs, like a balloon with a leak. 

“You tell me next time that happens,” she tells Queenie. When her sister looks away she snaps her finger under her nose. “Hey, Queenie, I mean it.” 

“I don’t want to start no trouble, Teen,” she says. “I got you, that’s all I need.”

Tina bit her lip, reeling in the rest of the anger she felt at whoever it was made Queenie think she was a freak. It was true, they didn’t really hang around anyone else, but Tina never thought it was because nobody would. Loads of people acted like they liked Queenie. She was the friendly one, the bubbly sister. 

It was horrible to know what was going on inside someone’s head. 

“I’m gonna head back to my dorm,” Queenie said. “I’ve got some stuff to get done, but I can’t think in this library. It’s too big and quiet.”

She gathered her books, waving to Tina as she walked out. 

Unable to focus on whatever homework she still had after Queenie left, Tina pulled out the letter from Hogwarts, breaking the seal and unfolding it carefully in front of her. 

_ Dear Tina,  _

_ I’ve always wanted to see a Thunderbird. An amazing creature. After your letter I looked them up in one of the books I had lying around--did you know they’re more closely related to the phoenix than they are to the hippogriff? Have you ever seen one? I imagine they’re spectacular. You don’t--you don’t have one at your school do you? Do you have any of the house creatures? _

_ Maybe you shouldn’t tell me if you do, I’ll be far too jealous. Everything else aside, if you had each of those creatures on your school grounds I think I’d have to say that Ilvermorny is by far the more superior wizarding school, and they might not let me have pudding if they found out I said that.  _

_ Ours aren’t named after beasts, they’re named after the founders of our school. They couldn’t decide what sort of wizarding students they wanted to educate so they split the school into four houses and each house would take whatever sort the founder thought was best.  _

_ A bit crap compared to four magnificent magical beasts, if you ask me.  _

_ Your sorting does sound fascinating, though. Our hat is enchanted, a bit of the minds of the four founders woven inside it so it can read our heads and decide where we go. How does the knot on your floor work? Was it enchanted by someone? The founder of your school?  _

_ Do you have to stand on it in front of everyone, all the older students as well? Our sorting is in the Great Hall, in front of them all.  _

_ I must admit, I don’t have overly fond memories of my sorting. My brother is in Gryffindor--the house of the brave--like my father before him. Siblings get split up about as often as they don’t, but I know they both expected me to be in Gryffindor like them. My brother barely even clapped when the hat shouted Hufflepuff. I had to walk past him, eyes cast down, like I was embarassed to be in the house I was in.  _

_ I’m not, though. Hufflepuff is a fine house. We’re loyal and compassionate and decent. At least, I hope to be. Most people think we’re a load of pushovers. I think Leta probably thinks that a little too--she always tells me I’m too Hufflepuff for my own good. Maybe she just means I’m too weak for my own good.  _

_ My brother never says anything about it. Maybe he’s over it. Maybe he’s realized that even if we were in the same house we wouldn’t really spend any time together.  _

_ My brother is not a bad person. I feel I have painted him in a very poor light here. He is my brother and I love him and I know he loves me. We’re just too different to really know what to do with one another, though I think our Hogwarts Houses are probably the least of our worries when it comes to that.  _

_ I’m sorry if this got a bit too personal. It’s easy to do, I think, when you can’t see the reaction of the person you’re talking to. However, it has been a bit of an odd week and this has helped enormously. I encourage you to do the same, should you ever need a faceless friend to air your troubles to. I’ll be here, across the ocean. And I swear, even if I think everything you say is absurdly silly--I’ll lie.  _

_ Best,  _

_ Newt _

_ P.S. I’ve attached a chocolate frog card here. I collect them, but I’ve got a few repeats. This one is Helga Hufflepuff, the founder of my house.  _

The card tumbled out of the envelope, a pleasant faced woman smiling back at her. 

_ Helga Hufflepuff. Medieval. Precise dates unknown.  One of the four celebrated founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Helga Hufflepuff was particularly famous for her dexterity in food related charms. Many recipes traditionally served at Hogwarts feasts originated with Hufflepuff.   _

Tina smiled down at the card, one of the corners crinkled and bent from being shoved into the slightly too small envelope. 

She read the letter over again. Then once more. 

She felt a pull at Newt’s sorting tale. She’d been terrified at her own sorting, she could only imagine how much worse it could have been with an expectation for what you should get--for who you should be--already thrust upon you with no thought to who you were. 

She grabbed a piece of parchment. She felt silly confiding in him, this stranger across the sea, but her heart was still thumping wildly in her chest from her conversation with Queenie and the empty tables around her--cleared out during her argument with Queenie--felt like they were pressing in on her. 

And, she reminded herself. Even if he thought she was stupid, he’d never tell her. 

She dipped her quill in ink. 

_ Dear Newt _ , she wrote. 

_ You can rest easy, we don’t have the creatures here on our grounds. In fact, other than the carving in the Main Hall, I’ve never even seen a drawing of a Thunderbird.  _

She didn’t know who enchanted the knot or how it knew where to sort them. She answered a few of his questions, but then her hand seemed to take over from her brain, and suddenly she was halfway down a page she hardly remembered writing. 

It was freeing she found. To write with little thought. Like the quill was pulling what she was thinking from her head without her really even having to dictate it. 

_ My sorting was horrible too. I stood there on the knot for minutes, waiting for one to choose me. Queenie likes to say it’s because all the houses wanted me and they were arguing over who got to keep me. But I know that’s not true. If all four houses want you, they all react, and the choice is with the student. That’s what they tell us. There’s even a rumor that it happened here, a few years ago, to a girl a bit older than me.  _

_ The problem was none of the houses wanted me. Or none of them thought I fit. That idea is slightly more comforting but only just.  _

_ I know what you mean about being different than your sibling. I’m lucky to have Queenie, though, I think. We’re all we’ve really got, so it don’t matter how different we are, we’ve got to stick together.  _

She filled the page, front and back, until she was forced to squeeze her name down at the bottom of it. Her hand cramped and she felt a bit silly, but she quickly magicked his envelope blank, shoving her own letter into it and resealing it before she could change her mind. 

It was only after, when she was tucking his note and his Hufflepuff card back into her bag that she thought she should have found something of her own to send along. They didn’t have cards with Thunderbirds on them, though, and she wasn’t sure what else would be appropriate to send. 

One step at a time, Tina, she thought. Maybe by the next letter she’d have something. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @rooniilwazlib (or @ofhobbitsandwomen)
> 
> i've got this all planned out so hopefully updating should at least be semi regular but your thoughts are always appreciated motivators!


	3. Chapter 3

**December 1910. Hogwarts.**

There was a chill in the air as December swept into Hogwarts. Newt found himself in the library most days, work and books and notes stacked all around him, his bag full of food he and Leta had swiped from the kitchens to sustain him through the long hours of studying. 

His classes were picking up, loading on heaps of homework every night, and Newt found himself to be markedly less prepared than usual. All his professors seemed to forget that they had several other classes they were taking that term, and that they couldn’t possibly get through three hours of homework a night for each. He’d missed the first snow of the winter, trapped in any empty classroom with a group of other fourth years, trying to make sense of his potions homework.

He thought maybe, in the back of his head, it was partially due to Tina he’d found himself so distracted all term. Every day he’d wait for his owl to drop a letter into his lap to hear back from her, then when it did, he stopped whatever homework he’d been planning or adventure he’d been daydreaming about to read it. 

He’d tuck them in his pocket until he thought of something to write back, checking back in and rereading them a few times. He’d think of things in his classes he wanted to tell her and he’d scribble them in his notebook to find later and organize into a coherent thought. 

But with fourteen inches of parchment to cover for Charms, a bar of soap to transfigure into a teapot, and a case study to finish for Care of Magical Creatures, Newt found himself in the library frustrated, stressed, and not able to give himself the luxury of being distracted by the letters. 

He’d been putting off writing Tina back until after he’d gotten a hold on all of his homework, but that hadn’t seemed to happen yet. He thought maybe he could scribble something down for her quickly when he was done with his homework one night, but by the time he’d gotten back to his common room and walked up to his four poster bed, his notebook pulled into his lap, his brain was suddenly blank but for a few dates he’d had to memorize for History of Magic. One night when he tried to push through it, he’d fallen asleep before he’d even finished writing  _ Dear Tina _ . 

“This is enough,” Leta said, slamming her book closed. “I can’t possibly fit any more information in my head without it bursting open.”

Newt agreed, nodding his head and closing his eyes, resting his head down on his arms crossed over the table in front of him. Silently, he grabbed a chocolate bar from his bag and started nibbling on it. 

“We need a break,” Leta said. “A real break. Not a nap in the library.” 

Newt perked up (reluctantly) resting his chin on his forearms, blinking slowly and trying not to think of how tired he was. 

“There’s a Hogsmeade visit tomorrow,” he said. 

“Perfect,” Leta agreed. “We’ll go, get a butterbeer, and not think about our books or classes for a whole day. Agreed?” 

“Agreed,” Newt nodded. Then he dropped his head back down, ignoring the Ancient Runes homework off to his right in favor of a nap. 

*** 

The walk to Hogsmeade was brisk and windy and Newt couldn’t feel his nose by the time he and Leta made their way into the Three Broomsticks. It took him until he was most of the way through his butterbeer to feel like he could move all his fingers independently of one another. 

They were tucked away in a table off to the side of the pub, away from the hustling clamor as students and professors shuffled in and out for a pick me up away from the chilling winter air. 

Newt was relaxed for the first time in days, though, his back pressed to the hard wood of the chair. It was nice to have a break from homework, away from the library and the common room full of students stressing about getting their homework done before they had to pack to go home for the holidays. 

Newt had his latest letter from Tina tucked into his pocket. He was hoping to have a chance to poke around some shops and pick up something small for her as a Christmas present to send with his next letter, but he wasn’t quite sure what she would like. He thought perhaps a trinket from Zonkos or maybe a box variety of sweets from Honeydukes but neither seemed quite right. 

Leta too was on his holiday shopping list. A short list, just Tina, Leta and Theseus, but he was hoping to get it done while they were down in Hogsmeade so he wouldn’t have to worry about it as the term came to an end. 

“Where did you want to go first?” He asked Leta, as he finished off the last sip of his drink. She’d moved on to her second one already. 

Leta shrugged, listing off a few shops she wanted to go to and Newt turned toward the window watching the snow fall softly outside, dusting the hair of everyone who passed by. When she finished her drink, Leta hopped up out of her chair, ready to go and Newt pulled on a soft wool cap his mother had sent him as a Christmas present the year before. 

“Want to start at Dervish & Banges?” she asked him, pulling her coat tight around her. 

“Sure,” he said. He didn’t know what Leta would need in there, but it was an interesting shop. It always had gadgets lying around that he liked to look at. 

Leta was preoccupied most of their time in the shop, picking up different items along the shelf, walking with the shop boy, asking how things worked, while Newt got rather bored along the side of the store, waiting for her to be finished. 

While he stood waiting, he spotted a shelf full of sneakoscopes, different engravings around the gold band along the middle. He walked over to them, browsing through the different colors and designs of them in the travel size section. Plucking up one ivy twisting around the outside, he glanced around him, making sure Leta was still preoccupied, and walked over to the register. 

“Can it get it wrapped up please?” he asked the man at the till. 

A minute later his pocket of coins felt a bit lighter, while the sneakoscope rested in his other. Leta smiled and returned to him, motioning toward the door.

“You done here?” she asked.

“Sure,” he nodded, smiling once more at the shop boy and waving as they stepped outside. 

As they passed Gladrags Wizardwear, Newt reached out and grabbed Leta’s arm. 

“Wait a moment,” he said. “Can we pop in here?” 

Leta made a face. “Looking for some new robes?”

“No,” he shook his head. He reached into his back pocket, pulling Tina’s letter out and unfolding it. Leta stared at him, possibly in disbelief or embarrassment that he carried it around with him but he ignored her. He skimmed the letter until he found the paragraph he was looking for. 

_ It sounds silly but I’ve had a horrible day because my I got my foot caught on the corner of my dresser this morning and it ripped a giant hole in my favorite pair of socks. They were a gift from Queenie from a while back. A blue pair with swirling golden suns all over them. I’ve had them for years now, the blue has faded long from the vibrant color it was when Queenie gave them to me, but they were my favorite all the same.  _

_ I’m not going to say they were my lucky pair, because of course I’m far too sophisticated to believe in that sort of thing. But I will say good things always seemed to happen to me while I was wearing them. Except, of course, today.  _

_ I’m going to have to save up for another pair now. They’re my favorite way to bend the dress code, here. There are no rules about socks or stockings, though I think my headmistress has considered changing it since my arrival. Apparently socks with strawberries and ducklings all over them aren’t quite what she pictured her students wearing to class.  _

Leta stayed a few feet behind him as he browsed through the store, silently going along but offering no help or suggestions. 

“Why are you buying her a present anyway?” she asked him as he narrowed it down to three pairs to choose from. 

“She’s my friend,” Newt said simply. 

“She’s your  _ pen pal _ ,” Leta said. “For a school assignment. You don’t see me shopping for a present to post to Japan.” 

“That’s because you haven’t made the effort to actually become friends with yours,” Newt said. “In fact, I don’t think you’ve ever even mentioned his name.” 

“I don’t need more wizard friends,” Leta said. There was a loneliness in her voice when she said it though and Newt felt a pang of guilt. Tina had become very nearly a sore spot in their friendship. Leta was looking forward to the end of the assignment so she didn’t have to write to her partner ever again, and Newt was silently knowing his letters would carry on no matter what. 

He didn’t know exactly how to explain what his relationship with Tina was. She was his friend, but it was different than his friendship with Leta. It was a question he tucked into his chest, never daring to bring it up to Leta, knowing it would only cause trouble. 

“Come on,” he waved her over to him and held up the final two he was choosing between.”Which one?” 

Leta shook her head, pushing off of the wall she was leaned against. “I’m gonna wait outside,” rolling her eyes. “I’ll meet you at Honeydukes if you take too long.”

In the end he chose a light pink pair, thick yellow stripes going across it. They had little grey flowers twirling around them, and looking closely he saw little green figures, like a stick with limbs, climbing between the striped sections, pushing off from the flowers. 

“Ah,” a wizard dressed in patterned purple robes came up behind him. “Bowtruckles.” 

“I thought so,” Newt said. “I’ve never seen one before so I wasn’t sure.”

“Marvelous little creatures, they are,” the man said. “Peaceful creatures, but handy when dealing with a nasty foe, if you know what you’re doing that is. Not too bad at picking locks, either.” 

Newt smiled, handing the man the socks. “I’ll take them,” he said. “You don’t...erm…” he squirmed a bit, feeling rather silly at his next question. “You don’t have any way to gift wrap that do you?” 

The wizard smiled down at him, giving his shoulder a big pat. “Oh I think I can manage it,” he told him. 

***

Newt’s trunk was packed for the holidays before his letter was sent. 

He bundled it up, tying the small brown package to the letter with a bit of twine, casting a quick sticking charm to make sure they didn’t fall apart on their way to Tina. He’d left his home address for her to write to, if she had the chance or the desire over the holidays. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he told himself not to expect one from her until after the holidays were over and he was back at school. 

His gut twisted a bit at the idea of that, but he brushed it off, knowing it was silly. 

He did wish a bit that he could know how Tina reacted to her present. He’d thought it was rather clever as he’d bought it and packaged it up, but only then did he realize that he wasn’t sure if she’d even want him to buy her a new pair of socks. The ones she wrote about replacing were a gift from Queenie, and she might have found it rude that he thought he could just replace them. 

He heard Leta’s voice call out to him, asking if he was ready for one last dinner, and he pushed the thought out of his mind. He supposed he would never truly know.

***

**December 1926. New York.**

“Ma’am,” Tina’s voice scratched. “Yesterday a wizard entered New York with a case. This case.” She stopped and gave the case a quick glance before carrying on. There was a lump in her throat, growing larger and harder to ignore by the second. “Full of magical creatures and, unfortunately, some have escaped.”

There was a rock in the center of her gut, growing larger with every breath. 

Newt was her friend, once. A long time ago. And here she was, turning him over to MACUSA, without even giving him a chance to explain. 

She had no idea if she was doing the right thing. 

It was her job wasn’t it? She used to be an investigator. She used to be the one to protect the law and the people the law was supposed to protect. And Newt had broken it. Several times actually. With seemingly no intention to stop. 

If she was any sort of auror, anything like the witch she claimed to be, it was her responsibility to turn him in. 

“He arrived yesterday?” President Picquery’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’ve known for twenty four hours that an unregistered wizard set magical beasts loose in New York and you see fit to tell us only when a man has been killed?”

Tina stopped short. “Who has been killed?” 

Her stomach sank lower. This was not what she intended. She glanced up where President Picquery was gesturing, a body of a no-maj floating before her, his face horribly scarred and battered. 

This was not something the niffler could have done. This was not anything Newt did or caused, she knew that. She’d stepped herself--and him now too--into something far bigger than she had intended. She shouldn’t have come, she knew that now. She should have taken her case back to her apartment and reasoned with him. 

Newt’s creatures were wild, maybe even uncontrollable, but they weren’t dangerous. Not like that. No troublesome pest would have caused what she was staring at. 

“Where is this man?”

She looked back up at her President. She nearly lied. Told them she didn’t know, or that he was back, asleep at her apartment, that she could get him and bring him in if they would give her an audience. But it was no use. Madam Picquery was looking straight through her, already knowing the truth. 

Tina set Newt’s case down on the ground, slowly. She stepped back, feeling the need to run, but then she pushed herself forward, rapping her knuckles on the worn leather on the top of the case. 

After a moment, it popped open, the top tipping backwards as a hand, an arm in a blue coat, lifted it gently. Newt’s head and torso rise with it, glancing around himself with wide, curious eyes, wondering where he was. 

Then he met Tina’s eye and she wished the floor would swallow her whole. Because she could see it, plainly splattered across his face. The recognition of what was happening. The hurt, the wondering. Even a bit of pleading for just a split second, before she had to tear her gaze away, not being able to take it any longer.

Then, slowly, he stepped out of the case. 

***

**December 1910. Ilvermorny** .

Tina was so close to the end of term she could taste it. She had one more essay to write for Charms and then her Divination final and she was free. Well, free to relax, as she and Queenie were both staying at Ilvermorny over the winter holidays, but her days would be free. 

Free of studying, of stressing, of worrying, of collapsing sleep deprived onto the table in the library where she and Queenie had set up shop. 

She was jealous of Newt when he told her they worked on three terms at Hogwarts, with exams only at the end of every year. At Ilvermorny the operated like other American universities--two terms, exams at the end of each. She knew he’d been stuck in the library, slammed with homework, but the pressures of homework always sounded so appealing when an exam was looming overhead. 

She was studying for her Divination final, tarot cards spread out in front of her in the celtic cross, ready to give up on the whole term. 

She was amazed she was even being allowed to take the Divination final, honestly. She’d been so horrendous all term she thought her professor would just mercy fail her early and get it over with. 

“Oh, you’ll be okay, Teen,” Queenie said from across the table. Tina was sure her anxiety was radiating off of her in waves. “It’s just doubt stopping you, that’s all.” 

Maybe, Tina thought, but she wasn’t too sure. She knew Divination was real, there were diviners and seers all over the country. However, she also knew she was absolute crap at it. She’d sooner eat her tea leaves than believe what they told her. 

Maybe it could be taught, but Tina was convinced that, like Queenie’s legilimency, either you were born with some sort of natural ability, or you could only ever produce a kind of half result. Maybe the readings she was coming up with sounded right, but there was nothing organic about them. 

Queenie, of course, was a natural. Tina was starting to think it was tied to her legilimency. If you’re in tune with one element outside yourself, you’re in tune with others, and all that. 

Either way, she was hopeless at it and bound to fail her final. 

She’d been hoping she’d have a letter from Newt to distract her from studying, something to give her a bit of good news or cheer in between fumbling card readings, but it looked as though he was too caught up in his homework or packing, and she’d be waiting a few more days. 

“It’s been awhile since you got a letter from him, huh?” Queenie asked. Tina jumped, startled, not realizing how far out she had been pushing her thoughts. 

“Not too long,” she said, quick, defensive. She didn’t want Queenie to think Newt had forgotten about her. He was just  _ busy _ . 

“Maybe he’s making you a special holiday card,” Queenie suggested. She looked cheery and bright as always, and Tina couldn’t even roll her eyes at it. 

“I don’t even know what he celebrates,” she said. “He might not celebrate anything at all.” 

“Oh I’m sure he does,” Queenie said. “Everybody celebrates  _ something _ . Even if it’s just family.”

Tina shrugged and went back to her spread. She only had a few cards left to read, but she was having trouble remembering what the last three positions in the celtic cross meant. She grumbled, flipping through her notes while she tried to find it.

“Maybe,” she said, flipping over the final card. “It’s time for a break. Are you hungry?” 

Queenie nodded, already tucking her books back into her bag. 

“Yes,” she said. “Let’s go eat.” 

Tina nodded, reading her last card and frowning a bit, before stuffing them into the front pocket of her bag, and stuffing everything else in carelessly. Her stomach growled loudly and her face turned as red as her tie, Queenie laughing as she hooked her arm through Tina’s elbow and pulling her out of the library. 

*** 

They were in the middle of dinner when a package fell down in front of her with a thud. 

She poked at it curiously, wiping some gravy from her sandwich off of the corner of it from where it landed on her plate. She hadn’t been expecting a package, she thought, peeling the layer of twine away from it to see who it was from. 

She recognized Newt’s handwriting on the outside of the brown paper holding it all together and she felt her pulse rush excitedly. 

“Jeez, Teenie,” Queenie said, recognizing from her thoughts that it must be from Newt. 

She opened it quickly, the letter lying unread beside her as she tore into the small box. She ripped the sides of it, the contents spilling out onto the hard wood table. She couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her lips as she saw was it was. 

One, lovely, patterned pair of socks, tied together with a red and white ribbon, a miniature little sleighbell attached to the ribbon. 

“He sent you a present?” Queenie looked on enviously. Tina felt bad about being so excited while Queenie looked so put out--her pen pal hardly ever even wrote her back--but she couldn’t help it. 

“I told him about the pair you got me,” she explained, feeling the soft material beneath her thumbs. “About how I ripped them.” She grabbed the letter sitting beside her and opened the envelope carefully. 

_ Dear Tina _ , he wrote. 

_ I’m terribly sorry for how long it has taken me to write you back. I hope all you finals are going well, and that you have passed out in the library fewer times than you had been anticipating in your last letter. Or at least that you had brought a pillow to cushion your fall when your head hit the table.  _

_ Finally, my professors seemed to remember the holidays were coming up, and decided to ease up a bit on the workload. I went down to Hogsmeade with Leta to do a little Christmas shopping (though, now that I’m writing this, I’m realizing I never asked, do you celebrate Christmas? Terribly sorry if you don’t, just consider it a gift for whichever holiday you and your sister do find yourselves celebrating this season.) and I saw these socks in a small clothing shop in the village and they immediately made me think of you.  _

_ I do hope you like them.  _

_ I tried to go for something more subdued than the pair with the quacking ducks because I thought that might get a little disruptive in your classes, though maybe that is something you might have liked. Those little creatures climbing between stripes there are bowtruckles. The shop owner told me a bit about them when I bought the socks, and I went back to one of my books when I got back to the castle and found I’d already marked a chapter about them in my Care of Magical Creatures text. Fascinating little guys. I would love to meet one some day.  _

_ I’m off home for the holidays tomorrow (I’ve attached my home address to the back of the letter should you want to write me before the holidays are over). I’ll be able to help my mum with her hippogriffs again, which will be nice. Home is always nice in the winter. Big fires roaring and cocoa to drink and plenty of time to read and explore as I want to.  _

_ I hope your winter plans are ones you’re looking forward to.  _

_ As this is the end of term, this is the official end of my assignment and should you feel so compelled, you never have to write back to me again. However, I do hope you will chose to continue our correspondence. I’ve learned a great deal from you, and even better, I feel I have found a wonderful friend.  _

_ Best of luck on your finals,  _

_ Newt _

***

Tina didn’t get to write back for a couple of days, caught up in studying for the last of her finals. She was also putting it off because she didn’t know what to send him as a return gift. She knew he didn’t expect one, but she wanted to, especially given the wonderful present he sent her. 

It took her a few days to think of anything and when she did paced back and forth in front of Queenie’s dormitory, waiting for her to come and let her in so she could run the idea by her. 

“I found this old bound journal in the common room,” she told Queenie. “It’s been there since my first day, on one of those shelves in the corner, full of books no one ever uses.”

Queenie nodded along, her eyes smiling before her lips curled up, watching Tina knowingly. 

“It’s got an engraving of a Thunderbird on the cover, see,” she said pointing to the worn leather. 

“I think that’s perfect, Teen,” she said. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, o’course,” Queenie reassured her. “And you know it don’t matter what you get him, he’s gonna love that you thought about him at all.”

“Kinda had to,” Tina groaned. “What with him sending me socks and all that.” 

Queenie shook her head at her, still smiling, and sat back in the couch, summoning a some knitting things from across the room to work on while Tina wrote her letter. 

_ Dear Newt,  _

_ Thank you so much for the socks, I love them. The bowtruckles keep trying to break free from the top of them and climb further up my legs before they tumble all the way back down to my toes and start all over again. I’ve attached a present for you as well here. Since I don’t celebrate Christmas we’ll call it a Hanukkah present, though you definitely shouldn’t be expecting eight.  _

_ This notebook has been in my house at least as long as I have, probably even longer from how dusty it was when I pulled if off of the shelf. I hope you don’t mind, I ripped a page out to write this letter. The Thunderbird on the cover grows as you write. I’m not sure what happens when you’ve filled all the pages. Maybe it breaks free from it’s leather constraints and flies off the page.  _

_ You’ll have to let me know.  _

_ Queenie and I are staying here at Ilvermorny until the start of next term. It’s nice though, I love the castle at the holidays. Empty and ready to be explored and played around in. Makes it feel a bit more like my castle, and everyone else is just visiting, you know?  _

_ Plus, we always get the best pieces of everything at castle dinners, with no one there taking them before us. Perks to being a castle orphan, I suppose.  _

_ I’ve addressed this package to your home address, I hope it gets there okay.  _

_ Of course, I’m still going to write to you now that the assignment is over. You’re silly for even asking.  _

_ Happy Holidays, enjoy your cocoa and books and adventures,  _

_ Tina _

_ PS. That card tucked into your notebook? Pulled it as the last one while I was studying for my Divination final. Seven of Pentacles Reversed. Which, if you didn’t know, means ‘work without results’ ‘distractions’ and ‘lack of rewards.’ Not terribly comforting given the fact that the question I was asking was about how my divination final would go. I’ll let you know when I find out if my predictions are any good. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @rooniilwazlib or @ofhobbitsandwomen
> 
> i've got lots more planned for this story so let me know your thoughts!!


	4. Chapter 4

  1. **King’s Cross Station.**



Newt stretched his feet across the compartment, his feet falling on the cushion of the bench across from him. He felt restless and content all at once. Sad, of course to be leaving the summer holidays because it meant he no longer got to laze about all day doing whatever he wanted, but happy about returning to the castle. 

Even after three years of the same thing, he never quite got used to the feeling of going back. Maybe he was too hopeful at the start of every term, wishing for it to be different from the last somehow and that was why it always felt bigger for him than for Theseus or Leta. 

He had Tina’s most recent letter with him, and his notebook out, hoping to construct some sort of response he could send off for her to get at her own start of term. It seemed she was having the same sort of wary anticipation for her upcoming year at Ilvermorny. 

_ It’s strange, isn’t it? _ She had written. 

_ That we drudge through classes and exams longing for the holidays, imagining grand adventures when we’re suddenly free from the restrictions of our classes. And then the holidays do come and all memory of the hours I’ve spent sleeping in the library or up late studying, or running through snow and sludge to get to class on time because I’ve overslept seem to be wiped clean from my mind. And I’m dreaming wistfully about the routine I don’t have again. _

_ I think your term starts slightly before mine, so I hope you’ve had a well rested summer and are ready to go back. I know you must miss Leta.  _

He checked his watch at the thought of Leta, noticing it was only a few minutes until eleven. She was always running a bit late, but this was extreme even for her. He was just about to stand and look for her out on the platform when she tumbled into the compartment, a rosy flush on her dark cheeks.

“Hi,” she said, sounding out of breath. 

Newt stuffed his letter into his pocket without thinking. Leta had made it no secret that she found it strange that Newt still wrote letters to Tina, though it had been almost a year since their assignment had begun. In the weeks after it ended, all the other students’ letters trickled off, even those who were friendly with their partners. He thought there might be one other pair who continued on the correspondence. 

“You don’t get extra credit you know,” Leta had told him when a letter had come for him after the Easter holidays. 

“I’m not doing this for extra credit,” he had said, pulling parchment out to write her back straight away. “She’s my friend.”

Leta looked doubtful. 

“Anyway,” he continued. “Wasn’t that the whole point of the assignment anyway? To make connections with other wizards and witches around the world?”

They hadn’t talked much about it since and Newt didn’t feel like squabbling with Leta when he hadn’t seen her since the end of last term. 

“I saw your broomstick down there with your trunk,” Leta said, elbowing him. “Are you going to try out this year?”

Newt flushed ducking his head. He’d been practicing all summer. Theseus had even offered to help him, a broad--and dare he say  _ proud _ \--smile had stretched across his face when Newt had asked him. It was the first time in a long, long time that Newt had felt he had something in common with his brother besides their family name. 

They’d spent the summer up in the air over the field behind their house, zooming over the lawns and trees and his mother’s hippogriffs. It was the most fun he remembered having with his brother in years. 

“Thought I might,” he said. 

Leta smiled, plopping down on the bench next to him. She sat with her back to the sliding door and lifted her legs up, her feet resting on Newt’s lap. She was bright and happy in an uncomplicated way that Newt wasn’t used to seeing with her. His stomach dipped as he realized it, but he didn’t quite want to look away from her. 

Leta’s skin had freckled in the summer sun and she looked  _ warmer _ . Fuller. Newt had missed her, he knew that, but he hadn’t realized how much until she sat there across from him, smiling and laughing at him, poking him with her toes and making him flush. 

It stirred something foreign in the pit of his stomach, something fluttering uncontrollably in his gut and he wondered why now it all suddenly felt different. 

He had always loved Leta, from the moment they became friends. They were a team, practically a package deal. He hated arguing with her because it was like blocking off a part of himself, and he didn’t know how to go on without her. He was better when she was around, he thought. Not so small or shrunken. Not so  _ hopelessly Hufflepuff _ , like she always teased him. 

She didn’t seem to notice the flush creeping its way up his neck. She pulled a box of every flavor beans out of her small shoulder bag that she’d let drop to the floor as she sat down. She held it out to him and he pulled a red one, and hoped as he popped it in his mouth that it was cinnamon. 

He let her voice wash over him, telling him all about her summer. She didn’t write much. Leta never wrote much. She’d send a short note here and there but she preferred to speak in person, so she had a lot to tell him and he sat back, feeling the hum of the train as it pulled away from the station, and listened to what she had been up to on her holidays. 

He wondered if there was something growing in her stomach too, but he didn’t know how to ask, so he looked out the window. He was happy, either way. To be back with his friend, back on his way to Hogwarts. 

The details could wait a while. 

***

  1. **Ilvermorny.**



_ Dear Tina,  _

_ I hope your first week of classes went well. And that your professors waited at least a day or two to start piling on the work. (Mine did not, though I suppose by now I should no longer be surprised.)  _

_ Do you have many classes with Queenie this year? I don’t know how they organize your classes--we go with our house, usually paired up with another. I have Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures with Leta this year, but that’s it.  _

_ My quidditch tryouts are next week. I’m slightly embarassed to admit that I am fairly nervous. Theseus has been on his house team for years, so he helped me practice as much as he could over the summer. I’ve gotten pretty good, I think. Not sure it’s good enough to make the team, but hopefully I will be able to scrape into the place of second worst trying out if nothing else.  _

_ Does Ilvermorny have quidditch teams? Are you on one? I suppose I never really thought to ask.  _

_ I’m sure if you are you could outfly me any day, but we’ll just have to see.  _

_ I’ll write again when something more exciting has happened here. Until then, I hope you’re well.  _

_ Your friend,  _

_ Newt.  _

Tina smiled down at the letter, folding it carefully back up and setting it beside her. She stretched her hands out behind her, tipping her head back and feeling the sun on her skin. 

Queenie had made friends with a couple girls from Pukwudgie and a girl from Thunderbird in the last few weeks of the term before. Tina had tagged along, nothing better to do and still wanted to be with Queenie, and they became a sort of group. Suddenly it wasn’t just Tina and Queenie anymore, and Tina was surprised to find it scared her less than she thought it would. 

They were in their spot, the one they’d claimed for themselves on the castle, marking it with small bits of graffiti and stretching out as wide as they could so no one else would bother them while they were there. It was one of the lower roofs of the castle. They climbed through the Divination room window to get to it, but when there were no classes in their, Professor Blight stayed locked away in her own personal study. 

As the sun warms her skin, Tina finds she’s happier to be back among the group than she thought she would be. She’d tuned them out for a few moments while she read the letter that fluttered into her lap from an owl flying above them, but the sound of their laughter had stayed steady on as she sat there, a sort of white noise she could melt into. 

“What’s that wizard’s name again?” Alice, a girl with jet black hair and quiet eyes asked her.

All the girls looked over to her except Queenie. There was Alice and Helen, the girl’s from Pukwudgie on either side of her, and Avery the girl from her own house sitting directly across from her. She met Avery’s eye and found her to be already smirking at her. 

Tina opened her mouth to answer but Queenie beat her to it. “Newt,” she said, smugly. “Newt Scamander.” 

There was a chorus of oohing and playful shoving but Tina just rolled her eyes, relaxing back onto her elbows. They could think what they wanted about Newt, it didn’t bother her one bit. 

It was the first weekend of term and they had snacks and games surrounding them, and it felt like their own secret hideout where they could stay, a pocket of the castle that was just theirs, until they had to go back down to the common room for bed. 

Queenie sat with her head in Avery’s lap while Helen stretched out in her stomach. Tina watched from the corner of her eye as Alice lifted her wand between her delicate fingers, flicking it toward Tina. In an instant her letter was flying around, the parchment folded into the body and wings of a bird, flitting from head to head. 

She couldn’t help but giggle as it bounced from each of them, round and round the circle, mussing their hair as it went. It tickled a bit as it moved from their heads to poking their cheeks. She tried to sound serious as she asked her to stop, but it fell out with a burst of laughter, so she gave up and leaned back, letting the bird hop on its way. 

“Did Queenie tell you what Harold said to her the other day?” Helen said. 

That was a favorite hobby of theirs. All the boys at school seemed to have forgotten they were supposed to think Queenie was a freak, that they had teased her endlessly the year before, and that still, though weeks had gone by without seeing her, she could read their thoughts. 

They all seemed to be incapable of blocking her out and they all also seemed incapable of not thinking stupid, ridiculous things around her, and the girls liked to hear about all of them. 

She wondered which boys would make the biggest fools of themselves in front of Queenie this term. The running bet was on Harold who seemed to not be able to go a quarter of an hour without thinking something foolish or embarrassing. 

Tina caught herself wondering whether or not any of the boys thought of her the way they thought of Queenie. 

She caught Avery’s eye again. She was rolling her eyes, a crooked smile on her thin pink lips, and she shook her head playfully at Tina. There was a flutter in Tina’s chest and she looked away blushing so she didn’t have to suss it out with Avery still watching her. She grabbed her letter as it flapped past her eyes and stuffed it back into her bag. 

_ Or any girls _ , Tina thought. 

*** 

  1. **New York.**



Newt’s pleas were echoing in her mind, unrelenting. 

_ Please, please, _ he’d begged.  _ Please you don’t understand, nothing in there is dangerous.  _ His hollow voice bounced around her head and she wished he would yell now. Now that they were in the cell, now that the air around them had turned deathly quiet.

Now that all she could hear, all she could not ignore, was the quiet sniffing of Newt crying softly to himself in the corner. 

She wanted to reach out and tell him that this was never what she wanted to happen. That she never thought it would turn out like this, and that she was going to work with him to figure it out. 

But her throat ran cold and dry and the words wouldn’t come. 

She glanced over at Jacob. He was sat on the cot along the wall of the cell, watching his friend with wide helpless eyes. He must have felt her staring because he turned to her then, a raw open hurt and confusion piercing into her from his gaze. 

She rubbed her palms against the tops of her pants. 

“Newt,” she started, but the thought ran empty before she could finish it. Newt didn’t look up at her anyway. How could she make up for this? How could she tell him that no matter what had happened, no matter the hurt he’d caused her years ago,  _ this _ was never something she would have planned. 

She felt her heart break inside her chest. The second time for Newt Scamander, and she wondered if that was going to be a pattern she ever got out of. 

“I’m so sorry about your creatures, Mr. Scamander,” she settled on saying. 

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough to cover what they needed to say to each other, not even scraping the surface. There were years between what she said and what they were, and she wondered if they’d ever find the time and the heart needed to talk it all over. But it got him to look up at her finally, his eyes red and puffy, and he stared at her as he wiped an arm across his face. 

“I truly am.”

***

  1. **Hogwarts.**



He was out of breath and dripping in sweat when he walked off the quidditch pitch. The Hufflepuff team had been having more and more early morning practices and he felt his stomach rumble from having missed breakfast, and he hoped Leta had thought to swipe him something for when they met in the library.

It was a good sort of tired he felt though, and he couldn’t help but duck his smiling head down as his teammates passed him by, clapping him on the shoulder, telling him  _ good practice _ as they walked back toward the castle ahead of him.  

He sees a figure coming down the lawn towards him and he waves as Leta’s face comes into view clearly. 

“You look tired,” she said. She tossed him a muffin and he grabbed it, gratefully ripping a chunk off and popping it into his mouth. 

“Long practice,” he said with a grin. “Still want to head to the library?”

She nodded, but he could tell something was off. He bumped her with his elbow. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” she said. It didn’t sound terribly convincing. “Just bored.” 

He dropped it, walking in silence back up to the castle for a few minutes. When they got to the library and started unpacking their bags across the table, he smiled up at her once more, breaking the quiet air between them. 

“The first game is coming up,” he told her. “Against Ravenclaw. You’ll be there right?” 

She flushed when he asked her and he felt the strange warmth grow in the pit of his belly again, as it did so often around Leta these days. 

“Of course,” she assured him. 

She seemed to relax a bit after that and Newt wondered maybe if he was being the tiniest bit selfish. He had less time to spend with Leta now that he was on the quidditch team, and they didn’t have as many classes together anymore, so he saw her less than ever. Maybe she was just feeling lonely. 

They’d been at the library for just over a quarter of an hour when Leta’s head looked back up at him. 

“So,” she said, reaching into her bag, pulling out an envelope and thrusting it toward him. “This came for you at breakfast. That American witch again.”

He scooped the letter up greedily, excited to finally be hearing back from Tina. She’d been slower to reply recently and he’d worried foolishly that maybe it was because she was tired of him. But the envelope was thick and when he pulled it out the letter was multiple pages and he instantly pushed his school work aside to read it. 

_ Dear Newt _ , it said. 

_ Congratulations on making the quidditch team, I’m so happy for you! When we heard the news from you, Queenie and I made a Hufflepuff quidditch poster and hung it on the wall of my dormitory, right next to one of my roommates’ American National team poster. It drives her mad, we charmed it to throw quaffles at the players on the other poster, and she can’t get her team to throw back.  _

_ I, unfortunately don’t have time for quidditch as I am busy with a sport of my own. Though, like you, I am a chaser. I’m just chasing insipid boys away from my sister when they’re too thick to know when to quit. It’s not like she can’t tell what they’re thinking. Though I don’t think you need to be a practiced legilimens to know what’s going on inside their heads. Most of them are barely thinking anything at all, to be honest.  _

The letter went on awhile longer, filling Newt in on her new friends, their classes, a brand new professor they have, all the goings on at the Ilvermorny castle. He couldn’t help but smile as he read it, she sounded happy about school in a way she hadn’t quite ever expressed before and it stirred the honey like feeling in his stomach again. 

It ended on a note that made Newt’s belly dip and flutter even more, and he felt his neck growing hot with no explanation. 

_ My Magical History professor told me about an exchange program of sorts for Ilvermorny students. Students with high marks can travel to different wizarding schools and stay there for a term. I could apply to Hogwarts, and study with you, if I wanted.  _

_ It wouldn’t be for a few years yet, they only take advanced students. But I think I could get in.  _

_ Anyway, not much point in worrying about it now, I just thought I’d share the news.  _

_ Good luck on your first game! _

_ Your friend,  _

_ Tina.  _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait and the slightly short chapter! i will hopefully be back soon with more (though my semester is starting on monday so i can't promise how regular my updates will be, but there is lots more to come in this story!) 
> 
> tumblr @rooniilwazlib


	5. Chapter 5

  1. **Ilvermorny.**



The castle was lonelier than ever, Tina thought. The Thunderbird common room was quiet as she sat by the fire, fruitlessly trying to focus on the textbooks in front of her. Most nights Queenie would come up and visit her, or she’d go down to Queenie’s room and they’d study together. Or they’d sit perched on their rooftop with their friends, a magic bubble floating above their heads to protect them from the cool air stretching in from the forest surrounding the castle. 

Usually. 

But Queenie wasn’t speaking to her. She left rooms when Tina came in, she never asked for help on her homework, she ignored her when Tina sat down at tables with her. It had been like that since they’d come back, stony, chilly silence and Tina had given up trying. If that was how Queenie wanted to play it then  _ fine _ . She didn’t care. She had other things to focus on, and she couldn’t bother spending any more energy on it. 

It was just so  _ silly _ , she thought, huffing a short breath out as she slammed the book in front of her closed. Queenie was mad at her, claimed that Tina treated her like a child, didn’t trust her, all sorts of nonsense. Just because she’d sent some boys away from Queenie who were clearly distracting her from her school work. 

Well. More like because she’d hexed them away, when they wouldn’t listen. 

“Teen!” Queenie had yelled when she’d done it. “They weren’t doing anything, just being friendly!” 

“You give people too much credit, Queenie,” Tina told her. “You think everyone is harmless. Most people aren’t like you.” 

“I can figure out who’s bad news and who’s harmless on my own without you watching over my shoulder everywhere I go,” Queenie had insisted. 

Tina had rolled her eyes at that. Queenie was sweet, happy to make friends with anyone who smiled at her, but most people didn’t have good intentions. Once she’d gotten pretty enough, people had stopped teasing Queenie for her legilimency and Queenie, just pleased to be able to walk through the castle without folks ducking ‘round corners to get out of reach of her mind, had seemed to forget all about how people treated her before. 

“You think you’re better than me,” Queenie yelled at her. “You’re smarter and and quicker in class, but you’re not in charge of me! I can be friends with whoever I want and I don’t need your  _ permission _ .” 

With that she had stomped away, a hand coming up to her cheek once she had turned away from Tina, and she hadn’t spoken to her since. 

It was fine. She was fine. She wasn’t lonely. She didn’t have time to be lonely. She had plenty of school work to focus on. And her letters to Newt. And her friends. Though, most of them were in Pukwudgie with Queenie, so she didn’t see them as often anymore. 

She shook her head and took out a spare bit of parchment. 

She could write to Newt. Their correspondence had been slower than usual lately, and she’d been trying not to think about it. But he was busy with quidditch practice she knew, and his school work was picking up as well. She knew he wrote her as often as he could. She just missed the days when it felt like she’d only just sent off a fresh letter when a new one from him plopped in her lap at breakfast. 

Tina looked down at the parchment, his name the only thing staring back up at her and she groaned, crumpling it up and throwing it in the fire. 

“The parchment do something to you?” Tina heard Avery’s voice behind her, and she leaned back, smiling at her as she came to sit beside Tina. Avery was the only one of the girls she saw regularly any more, the only two Thunderbirds in the group, and both of them in the year above the others. 

“It was taunting me,” Tina said. Avery was nearly pressed into her side. Their knees bumped when they shifted to look at each other and Tina felt a small thrill run down her spine. 

There was a striking sort of plainness about Avery. None of her features stuck out as special, but her whole face had an appealing sort of sharpness to it that Tina could never really ignore. Even knowing her, knowing how kind she was, and being her friend, Tina couldn’t help but feel like it was a special sort of moment every time Avery shot her a smile. The only real indicator that she wasn’t as tough as she sometimes looked. 

“Queenie misses you, you know,” Avery said, softly. 

Tina waved her hand, brushing her off, but Avery caught it. Her fingers traced up Tina’s slowly and Tina felt her body tense up and freeze, afraid that if she moved even a single muscle, the moment would be ruined. But Avery just shifted forward, leaning over to catch Tina’s eye as she held her hand. She used Tina’s hand to pull her closer until they were only a breath apart, and then Tina felt a thrill shoot up her spine when she caught the ghost of a smile creep onto Avery’s face before she leaned in, closing the distance. 

Her lips were soft and tasted like that lemon honey butter Tina knew she kept in a small tin in her bag wherever she went. She’d never kissed anyone before and she couldn’t help but feel a little foolish as she smiled into it, awkwardly ruining the rhythm Avery had established, but she felt Avery smile right back at her before breaking away. 

Tina was surprised to find a flush creeping up Avery’s neck, so she scooted closer to her on the couch, her ankle hooking behind one of Avery’s. Avery laughed, a bubbling giggle and it was only a moment before Tina joined in, her head dropping down to Avery’s shoulder, muffling the sound. 

***

It became a habit of sorts. 

She realized it one day as they sat outside, not on their roof with the other girls, but at the edge of the woods, sprouting flowers around the tree trunks before them just for fun. 

She had Avery, and she had Newt. And she hardly ever talked about one to the other. It was a strange line she’d drawn, wanting to keep them separate, and it was hard with Queenie still mad at her, because then she had no one to talk to about either one of them. 

She went to dinner on her own that day, grabbing her notebook to take down with her, while Avery met up with a partner from her potions class to work on a project. She was late on a letter to Newt, but she didn’t know what to say anymore. Nothing much was new in her life and she had a worry buried deep down in her chest that he’d grown bored of it all. 

Normally she’d talk it through with Queenie. She glanced across the hall to see if Queenie was at her usual table for dinner, but found only an empty chair. 

She flipped the notebook open to a new page. 

_ Dear Newt,  _ she wrote. 

_ Nothing much new here. How many letters is that in a row that I’ve started that way? It must be time for an adventure, whenever one is ready to come my way.  _

_ Queenie, of course, is still mad at me. I was hoping if I let her cool off she’d forget about it all in a couple days and everything would be back to normal. Apparently not. I suppose I’m going to have to do something to fix it soon. The castle feels a little too big without her.  _

She paused, wondering if she should mention Avery. It felt strange, an unfamiliar twisting in her gut whenever she thought about it. But it also felt strange not to tell him. They weren’t in the habit of keeping secrets from each other. She chewed on the edge of her quill, deciding for a moment longer before going back to the letter. 

_ There is one new thing, I suppose. Avery and I have become, well, close. She’s actually the only one of my group in my house so she’s the only one I’ve been seeing lately. She’s been trying to help me with everything with Queenie. Anyway, she kissed me the other day in the common room. It was my first kiss, actually. This feels like a silly confession, but without Queenie I haven’t had anyone to talk to about this. I hope you don’t mind.  _

She stopped, wondering if she should even bother telling him, if maybe it was a little too embarrassing. Maybe a little too personal. Maybe he didn’t  _ want _ to know if she’d kissed someone. There was a small part of her--the same part that secretly, unfairly, prickled a bit whenever he talked about Leta--that thought maybe she wouldn’t want to know if he’d ever kissed someone. Maybe he already had.

It was stupid and silly, she shook her head. They were penpals. They were friends. 

Maybe in a couple of years she could go to Hogwarts, and she could deal with untangling all of that then. But until then, they were friends. 

She quickly finished off her letter and signed her name, running to grab an owl to send it off before she changed her mind. 

***

  1. **New York**. 



“You were thrown out of Hogwarts for endangering a human life.”

Newt felt Tina shift behind him, felt her eyes widen and stare into him. She didn’t know. He knew that, of course. He’d never told her. She must have known something had happened, but his word never came, he never told her, and this,  _ this _ was not the way he ever pictured her finding out. 

“That was an accident,” he said. He twisted around as best he could in the small metal chair, his hands still bound together, desperate to look at Tina instead of Graves. 

“I wonder what you can tell me about this, Mr. Scamander,” Graves continued. He raised his hand, waved it and his obscurus, the one from his case, rose out of the corner of the room and floated over to them. He heard Tina’s intake of breath behind him, and his chest clenched. 

Maybe, he thought, maybe it really had all changed for her. Maybe she didn’t care anymore and she had brought him in knowing he would be arrested and his creatures would be taken and it was one great big revenge for years of broken friendship. He didn’t really think so, but maybe. 

But he knew, even if that was true, however small the likelihood of that was, even if it  _ was _ true, it didn’t matter to him. From the moment he stumbled upon her the day before something felt different about her than it had all those years ago at Hogwarts. But that happened over time. It was just that, stumbling into her, suddenly having an old part of his life back that he realized the hole it had left in him in the first place. 

And no matter what she felt about him now, no matter if this was something she thought he deserved right in that moment, he wanted her to know the truth. 

“It’s an obscurus, but it’s not what you think” he said, twisting to face her again. Her eyes were wide and fearful and there was a brief moment of panic within him that she wouldn’t believe him. But her eyes locked on his, following his every word. “I managed to separate it from the Sudanese girl as I tried to save her. I wanted to take it home to study. But it  _ cannot _ survive outside her. It can’t hurt anyone, Tina.” 

She believed him, he thought. His pulse was still thumping wildly beneath his skin, but she believed him. 

“You fool nobody Mr. Scamander,” Graves was standing, his hands in fists on top of the table between them. “You brought this obscurus into the city New York in the hopes of causing mass disruption, breaking the statute of secrecy and revealing the magical world.” 

“You know that can’t hurt anyone, you  _ know _ that.”

“You are therefore guilty of a treasonous betrayal of your fellow wizards and are sentenced to death,” Graves ignored him. He heard a sharp breath shoot out of Tina behind him, but he didn’t turn around to face her. “Miss Goldstein who has aided and abetted you--”

He lurched, unsure what he was trying to do, but knowing he needed to see Tina as the words fell from his lips. “No! She’s done nothing of the kind--”

“--receives the same sentence.” 

All he could hear was Tina’s sobs behind him, echoing around the small room and through the hallways as they walked. He wanted to reach out to her, unsure what it would do, but his hands, still shackled behind him as well as the witch escorting him, her wand to his throat, preventing him from it. 

He watched as the witch, Bernadette, pulled Tina’s memories from her, tossing them into the dark pool in front of them. He watched as Tina smiled at the face of her mother calling her name from the waters in front of her, as she climbed onto the chair that hovered above it. His voice felt like it was stuck in his throat, unable to call out, forced to watch it all happen in front of him while he stood and did nothing. 

He startled when he saw his own name in the pool below her. Signed onto letters, scribbled on from her own quill, spoken between herself and Queenie. He glanced up at her quickly as she watched the potion, but the look on her face was the same, as though she was frozen watching her memories play out before her. 

The water rippled and he saw her sitting in front of a fire. She must have been in her house’s common room at Ilvermorny. Her uniform was in disarray and her face was streaked with tears. Next to her he could see a pile of letters. She looked between the letters and the fire, and he spotted his name on them, signed at the bottom of the ones he could make out. She picked them up, ready to burn them, but just when she was going to toss them in the fire, the water rippled again and the face of the Second Salem woman appeared. 

He felt his gut turn to stone. 

When Pickett had gone through his shackles and the Swooping Evil was flying across the room he finally looked toward her again. Her face was panicked, snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in from the spell, and the potion was rising around her. 

A flash of her ready to burn his letters came back as he stared at her, and he held his arms out. He wasn’t losing her again. 

“Tina, listen to me,” he said. “I’ll catch you. I’ve got you, Tina.” 

*** 

  1. **Hogwarts**. 



It was the first snow of Hogwarts. 

Newt wasn’t sure why, but it was dazzling him more than ever and he wanted to tell someone about it. He wished, briefly, without thinking too hard about it, that Tina was there to see it. Hogwarts looked different blanketed in snow, like it was a brand new castle. 

He decided to write to her about it. He needed a distraction and it was about time for him to send a letter back anyway. 

_ I know you don’t like it like I do _ , he wrote about to her.  _ Maybe it’s a New Yorker thing. Always a bit harsh. But it’s like a soft white blanket has wrapped itself around the whole school. I love Hogwarts when it snows. Only now I suppose I won’t be able to spend any time sitting near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, hoping some sort of creature will come out.   _

The library around him was quiet as he wrote. He was at an old dusty table toward the back of it, by a great big window looking out onto the lawn. It was strange to be in the library by himself. He’d been doing most of his studying in his room, Leta too busy to study with him lately. It felt a little like she was ignoring him, trying to avoid him whenever possible.

She ate quickly when they had dinner together and rushed off. She was snapping at him more and more, as if he was too slow for her to deal with, too  _ Hufflepuff _ as she liked to say. She didn’t want to go to Hogsmeade or sit by the Black Lake with him. She didn’t seem to want to be around him at all.

He’d been spending most of his time by the Black Lake, wondering if he actually did manage to spot a mermaid, if Leta would want to hear about it. 

Probably not, he figured. She didn’t seem to want to hear about much these days. 

The rest of his time he’d been spending with his Care of Magical Creatures professor, helping her tend to the beasts and making notes in the book Tina had given him about all of them. 

He told her about all of them, flipping through his notes as he wrote her his letter, telling her all the interesting things he’d learned over the last couple of weeks he’d spent mostly on his own. He knew she was mostly on her own too. Still fighting with Queenie. It was unfair, he thought. The two of them forced to deal with their loneliness together from across an ocean. 

That was the trouble with pen pals, he supposed. They were paper friends. Friends you couldn’t see or hear or touch. 

Newt paused as he wrote, wondering if he should ask about Avery. Tina’s awkwardness about the subject had come through plainly in her last letter, only telling him about her because she didn’t have Queenie to talk to at the moment. He wondered if she was planning on telling him at all, had Queenie been there to gossip. A small part of him wished she hadn’t mentioned it. A different part of him told him that was selfish. 

She was lonely, he knew. And letters could only bring someone so much comfort. It was good she had someone. 

But still he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to bring it up again. He thought perhaps he shouldn’t. There was really only one thing he wanted to know, and that was if she was still seeing Avery, and that probably wasn’t appropriate to ask. 

Besides, they were friends. If there was news, she would tell him. They weren’t friends who kept things from one another. 

Sometimes he thought she was his best friend. And then he’d feel a pang of guilt as Leta’s smile flashed into his mind, but as he sat alone at the dusty old table writing to Tina, the thought crept back in his mind and he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. 

He hesitated before ending the letter, but signed it off a moment later the way he always did. 

_ Until you’re here at Hogwarts or you write again,  _

_ Newt. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know it's been one million years!!! i'll try to be better with the next update i swear. 
> 
> anyway, tumblr @rooniilwazlib or @ofhobbitsandwomen


	6. Chapter 6

**January 1913. Ilvermorny.**

The holidays, again it seemed, were coming to a rapid end. 

Tina had been spending most of her days with Queenie in the tea room, now that they had made up. It was a relief, she had thought, when Queenie had snuck into the Thunderbird common room a few days before the rest of the students filtered out for the break. She’d tiptoed over to where Tina had fallen asleep reading on the couch and sat down next to her, spreading her feet out and curling her head in Tina’s lap. 

“Let’s be done fighting now, Teen” she said, waking Tina up. “I miss you.” 

“You just don’t want to miss getting presents,” Tina said through a yawn. 

“Women contain multitudes.” Queenie stuck her tongue out at Tina. “Both can be true.” 

The castle was warm and inviting and theirs again, and Tina, trying not to think of the days crossed off the calendar that she’d hadn’t heard from Newt, let herself be wrapped up in warm blankets by the fire and mugs of cocoa with little marshmallows shaped like stars in them. 

Queenie had convinced Professor Blight to let them lounge about in her tea room when the snow and wind were too cold and harsh to be out in. She even charmed their marshmallows for them, so when they touched the surface of their drinks they disintegrated into tiny stars, and swirled into galaxies before bobbing back to the surface. 

It was like every other year when the castle felt just a little bit like it only belonged to them. Tina breathed it in slowly when she woke every morning, smiling and relieved. 

“I got a letter from Avery today,” Queenie said, nearing the end of the holidays. Her voice was soft and careful. Overly casual and Tina had to roll her eyes. 

“You don’t have to tiptoe around it,” she told her. “I’ve got no bad feelings toward Avery at all.”

“I don’t want you just saying that if it’s not true,” Queenie frowned. 

Tina lowered the wall in her head a bit, so Queenie could see she wasn’t lying. She liked Avery, she’d always liked Avery, and she was sure she always would. But they were better as friends. Both of them were too distracted to ever be good at being more than that, and when they fizzled out, the two of them barely even noticed. 

She’d seen her once, just before she left for the winter holidays. Avery had stopped her in the common room, a small box in her hand, wrapped in plain brown paper and a gold ribbon. 

“Hey,” she’d said, holding it out to Tina. She had a worn grey scarf wrapped around her neck, her trunk beside her. “Glad I caught you before I left.”

Tina paused, taking a half step back to lean against the arm of the sofa behind her. “Yeah?” she asked. There was still a small flutter she felt creep up through her stomach to her chest whenever Avery smiled at her. It would be enough to make her want to try again, if only she felt it more than when Avery was standing directly in front of her, reminding her to feel it. 

Avery held out the small box to Tina.

“I know we’re not…” she trailed off waving her hand between the two of them. “I got these for you a couple weeks ago.” Tina reached out and gingerly took the box. “I don’t want things to be weird for us. You’re still one of my best friends.”

Tina pulled the brown paper off and flipped the small box open. Inside were two sparkling hair pins, shaped like tree branches with small, blooming flowers on the end. 

“These are beautiful,” she said. She hesitated for a moment before pulling Avery into a hug. “Thank you.” 

At the mention of her, Tina reached her hand up, brushing the tips of her fingers against the pins, nestled securely in her hair. 

“Were her holidays good?” Tina asked, letting Queenie filter through whatever she wanted in her head. 

“She’s coming back a bit late, she said,” Queenie told her. “Her aunt got real sick.”

“Oh,” Tina said. “That’s too bad.”

Queenie nodded, humming, stuffing her letter into the small box on her bedside table. She closed it carefully, glancing at Tina from the corner of her eye. 

“Yes, Queenie?” Tina said, laughing. 

“Have you heard from your British wizard recently?” she asked. Her voice was light and gentle, but Tina could already feel how curious she was, Queenies mind slipping and poking into her own. 

“He’s not  _ my _ British wizard,” Tina said. Her cheeks burned red as she spoke the words, and her gut twisted like it did when she lied. He wasn’t really her wizard. He was his own, she knew that. But he felt like hers. Her own person, her own secret friend, a comfort and an ally and a refuge, and someone she didn’t have to share with anyone she knew. 

Queenie smirked and Tina threw the wall in her head back up again. 

“No, not since before the holidays,” she said, answering Queenie’s question. “I’m sure he’s just busy.” She smiled at her sister, her cheeks already feeling sore from the effort. Newt would write soon, she was sure. She just wished she knew how soon. 

***

It was another two days before Tina finally heard from him. The castle was theirs for another few days, but Newt she knew was back at Hogwarts. He must have waited until he was on the train back to send out her letter. 

She ripped into the envelope as soon as she was back in her room, the small brown package that had come with it tucked into the pocket of her robes. She jumped onto her bed, the box tumbling out of her pockets and landing on the blankets in front of her, but Tina paid it no mind while she pulled the letter out and drank up his small crooked scroll again. 

_ Dear Tina,  _ it said. 

_ I can’t apologize enough for how late this letter must be coming to you. The holidays themselves have been over and done with for days now, and while I know you will be relaxing at Ilvermorny for a few more days, it is rather late for a Christmas-Hanukkah gift to be arriving. _

_ I hope your break from school was an excellent one. You said in your last letter that you and Queenie had finally made up, which I was enormously glad to read. Holidays are particularly dreary when friends are quarreling. This holiday in particular was one of the worst I have memory of, but I’m hoping, given your news regarding Queenie, that yours was much better than mine.  _

_ Leta stayed at the castle for the holidays this year. She signed up on the last day and was cross with me for not signing up to stay with her. Thought it was stupid that I’d want to go home and spend time with a family I have nothing in common with. She was probably right, I suppose. I always imagine the holidays to be better than they are, and then I spend days at home trying to remedy that.  _

_ Your letter, and your gift, were the best part of the holidays this year.  _

Tina blushed reading that. She worried her bottom lip and read the line over once more, before moving on to the rest of the letter. 

_ It is a relief to have at least one person out there in the world who isn’t upset with me. Even if you are across the ocean.  _

_ Anyway, I hope you don’t mind, I’ve continued with my traditional gift. To make up for the lack of originality, I’ve included a second pair that I think you’ll enjoy as well. I found them both at Gladrags and spent nearly a quarter of an hour trying to decide which one to get for you, when I gave up and decided you would enjoy them both so there was no use in choosing between them.  _

_ I promise to write again soon, much, much quicker this time. I hope your holidays were good, and I can’t wait to hear all about them.  _

_ Until you’re at Hogwarts or you write again,  _

_ Newt.  _

She pulled the small box into her lap, undoing the small bit of ribbon wrapped around the brown paper holding it together. She lifted out two pairs of socks, one patterned with soft moons, cycling through the phases, and one with small, slow spinning dreidels dancing up and down the fabric. 

Smiling, she tucked them into her drawer, and folded up Newt’s letter to slip into her pocket. 

***

She didn’t write back until nearly a week later, after dinner, when she was spread out on the common room floor, her feet at the fire and her back against the couch. 

She’d pulled his letter out whenever she had a spare moment that day, reading over the few vulnerable lines right in the middle, overwhelmed and feeling strange as her eyes gazed over them, no matter the fact that she knew them by heart now. 

_ Your letter, and your gift, were the best part of the holidays this year. It is a relief to have at least one person out there in the world who isn’t upset with me. Even if you are across the ocean.  _

Tina glanced down at her feet, clad in the soft yellow dreidel socks he’d sent along. The warmth of the fire seeped into her toes, and as the heat spread, the dreidels spun faster and faster. 

_ It’s strange, don’t you think? _ she wrote to him. A small sort of confession she wasn’t ready to voice aloud. That one of my best wizard friends is across the ocean in a place I’ve never been, with a face I’ve never seen. 

She had felt her heart break as read over his letter again, how his argument with Leta had ruined his holidays, how he thought it had been his own fault. How he thought he was silly for wanting a warm and welcoming holiday with his family. 

She chewed on the top of her quill a moment, unsure if she wanted to write what she was thinking. But after only a moment's hesitation, she grabbed the parchment again and scribbled it down. 

_ Your heart is too big and kind. I’m jealous of it sometimes. But with all the room you have in it for other people, you leave so much space for them to hurt you.  _

***

  1. **Hogwarts.**



Spring floated into the windows of Hogwarts. Sun filtered through the windows of the library, pulling at Newt as he studied indoors, the dust coming from the pages of his books flying around his homework, illuminated. He was happy to see the snow melt, no matter how happy he’d been to see it come. He was ready to spend his days outside again. 

He and Leta had started studying by the Black Lake again. She’d grown tired of being cross with him a while back and had come to apologize. The moment had sat in his stomach, hard and awkward, and he’d pushed the thought of it away day after day, happy to have someone to talk to again. 

The castle itself was tense enough without any help. OWLs were looming overhead for Newt and Leta and all the other fifth years, and it seemed like around every corner of the castle, someone was whispering about them or panicking about them, or hoping for them to hurry up and happen so they could get them over with. It was hard to find even a pocket of the castle where the letters O W L weren’t being spoken. 

It had Newt tense and twisted and constantly on edge. Half the reason he and Leta studied by the lake was to get away from it all. 

He’d only heard from Tina a few times since the panic had begun. Her letters were coming slower than usual, and he knew it was only because she was caught up in school work, so he tried to put it out of his mind. He felt himself tempted to write her again, before she wrote back, just because he felt like he had so much he wanted to say, like the only way he could get his thoughts to make sense anymore was to write them out to her, but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. So instead, he took his books and walked with Leta to the Black Lake, trying not to think of OWLs or Tina, and just focused on his homework. 

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work very well. He couldn’t help but think about OWLs and he could never help thinking about Tina, and the pressure of all of it swirling together was enough to make him snap. 

“I can’t picture myself doing anything after Hogwarts,” Newt said, one day. It was ridiculous, he thought. Barely sixteen and taking exams that would shape the rest of his life. “And,” he added. “It’s pointless to even try. Hogwarts isn’t how I pictured it, and life after Hogwarts won’t be how I picture it, and trying to get me to do it anyway isn’t going to help anyone.” 

Leta rolled her eyes at him, barely looking up from her homework. 

The pressure seemed to be lost on Leta. He absorbed all of it, around every corner he soaked up the stress coming from every fifth year around him. Leta on the other hand, it seemed, let any stress she might have been feeling slip off and slide over to someone else. 

All she really cared about was getting out of Hogwarts. She didn’t seem overly picky about how it happened. 

“We’re meant for something better than this, Newt,” she said once, when he asked her about it. “We don’t fit in here because there’s something better out there for us.” 

Maybe she was right. He couldn’t picture himself at a desk or a bank or a shop, or teaching at Hogwarts. He wanted to see the places and the creatures he read about, wanted to explore somewhere outside of the castle and his manor at home. It always felt like a silly dream, something to help get him through the day. He wasn’t sure there was even a job out there that would let him do something like that. 

He sat with Theseus one night at dinner, when Leta was off working on some other project, and tried to ask him about it. 

“You’re a Scamander, Newt,” Theseus said, as if it was a ridiculous question. “You could be anything. Anything you want.” His eyes turned cold and his face hardened as he carried on. “You’ve just spent too much time messing about with that Lestrange girl to realize it.”

Newt felt his face grow hot and his fingers ached as he clenched them into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He wanted to swing at Theseus or pull his wand out and hex him. 

Instead, he sat there, across from him, and felt his body run cold as Theseus carried on in front of him. 

“She’s my friend,” Newt spat. He wished he could think of something meaner to say. Something to throw back at Theseus. But it was all he could think of. _ She’s my friend. Leta is my friend. _ “And there’s nothing wrong with her.” 

He pushed away from the table, ignoring Theseus as he called after him. 

He shouldn’t have gone to his brother. He should have learned by then that Theseus was different. That he was always going to see Newt as different. That nothing Newt did was ever going to make up for how different they really were. 

He thought of going to find Leta in the library but his hands were shaking and his skin was flushed and he didn’t want to have to explain why. It was too much and too messy to work it out with Leta. 

So he went back to his room instead. None of the other fifth year boys were back yet, they must have all been at dinner still. He slumped down onto his four poster and stared at the ceiling, waiting for his breathing to even out and his knuckles to turn back from white to pink. 

Eventually, he grew tired of sitting there, and he ripped a sheet of paper out of one of his notebooks. He still hadn’t heard back from Tina, but he wanted to talk to someone, and she always understood. Her words from a few weeks earlier floated in his mind as he scribbled her name down and started writing. 

_ Your heart is too big and kind. I’m jealous of it sometimes. But with all the room you have in it for other people, you leave so much space for them to hurt you.  _

He wondered if she thought he was stupid for it, too. Just like everyone else seemed too. Too weak for Theseus, too odd for his classmates, too Hufflepuff for Leta. But Tina wrote it like it was a wonderful flaw, a beautiful little broken piece of him that somehow made him better than everyone else. He wanted to tell her exactly how much of that space she had come to take over, leaving a little less room for everyone else to hurt him now that he had her to talk to. Now that she took up so much of him. 

_ It’s a fight we’ve been having silently for years, _ he wrote to her.  _ Theseus just finally said it all out loud. I try not to say it too often, but I’m jealous of your relationship with Queenie. I know Theseus and I are lucky in ways that you are not, but I believe the two of you are lucky in a way that matters more.  _

_ I have you, though, don’t I? Whenever there’s a thought I can’t work through you’re there. My head gets a little too big for me to figure out sometimes. It’s nice to have someone on the other side of the ocean, waiting for the pieces I send over. They don’t crush me anymore but they’re never too far away.  _

_ That doesn’t make much sense, does it? _

_ If there’s a burden in your life, Tina, that feels too big for you, I hope I can return the favor. I hope I’m who you would choose to help, like you are for me.  _

_ Until you’re at Hogwarts or you write again,  _

_ Newt.  _

***

  1. **New York.**



“I’ve arrested half the people in here,” Tina said, pulling him out of his thoughts. He’d been glancing around, taking in the parlor around him. 

Once he looked at her though, it was hard to focus again. She was nervous and tense, her long arms crossed over one another on the table. She sat uncomfortable in her blue dress, as though it was not something she would wear except in the present situation. The sparkles from her dress danced on her skin and Newt had to shake himself to remember what it was they were doing there. 

How different she seemed in MACUSA, from the girl he knew from childhood. But sitting there, in the Blind Pig, with her glancing around awkwardly, catching his eye and ducking her head every time she did, he could see the girl he knew before. A flash of her in every moment, becoming clearer and clearer since the moment she dragged him into the investigative office.  

Maybe just the outside was new for him. He’d never seen her, they’d never done anything outside of their letters in the way of contact. The core, the heart of her, was still the same one he knew from all those years ago. 

Images from the death potion swirled back into focus at the front of his mind. Scenes of her reading his letters, scenes of her writing to him or opening his presents. The moment where she sat in front of the fire, ready to toss his letters in.  

He couldn’t help himself. 

“You can tell me to mind my own business,” he said. “But I saw something in that death potion back there.”

_ Me _ , he wanted to say.  _ I saw me in that death potion back there. My letters, my gifts. I saw you sitting in front of a fireplace, ready to burn them all.  _

But she looked up at him and the words stuck in his throat. Maybe he shouldn’t know. Maybe it was better if he never asked. She could keep the memory for herself, the anger buried long in the past, and he could sit there beside her now, and figure out how he fit in without their letters. 

It was better to focus on that, he thought. Than to find out how much she hated him then. How much that might still push her forward now. 

He shook his head. 

“I saw you hugging that Second Salem boy.”

Maybe, he thought. Maybe he’d ask another time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @rooniilwazlib or @ofhobbitsandwomen

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @rooniilwazlib


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